Winter
by LavenderBrownie
Summary: When the battle with Voldemort is finished, there's still stuff left to do. Hermione decides to help Draco Malfoy out with the task he feels he needs to be doing and more.... [Deathly Hallows spoilers]
1. Cosy gettogether downtown

_Just a little note;_

I was never really into Dramione, but changed my mind recently; here's the baby that came out of my newborn fandom, enjoy!

Disclaimer;

Do not own J.K.'s characters, blah blah, do like to mess around with them.

**Chapter one**

_Cosy get-together downtown_

She tuned on the radio and turned the volume up and down with her wand.

Slightly shivering due to the cold November breeze that even seemed to fill the living room, she pulled her cloak more closely around her and nervously looked at Ron.

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, arms folded on his chest and narrowing his eyes at her, in an attempt to look threatening.

Which he quite did, because he was six foot something and a lot more impressive when he was angry.

'You're going to see _Malfoy_,' he said for the ten thousandth time that afternoon.

'Yes, Ron, he called me.'

'Yeah, over a _fellytone!_ He's _pureblood_, doesn't that sound _slightly_ suspicious to you?' he spat at her, trying to emphasize every word.

She sighed, disappointed at Ron because even months after the war had ended, he still did not trust Malfoy.

'First of all, it's a telephone –'

'That's what I said!'

'No, you called it a fellytone,' Hermione pointed out, and their bickering went on for several minutes before they heard Harry call out from somewhere upstairs that the both of them had to shut up, before he would be mending skulls.

'I don't put much trust in his healing spells, so if you'd crack open my skull, you'd better be the one to heal it, too!' Ron said.

Hermione only looked at him. She wasn't really planning on putting anything through Ron's skull, though thinking it over again, the idea sounded quite attractive when he looked at her like that.

'Look, Ron, Draco's be –'

'_Draco?'_ Ron said in a revolted tone, sounding like the time Hermione had called Viktor Krum by his first name. 'Can't you just ask him out?'

'Hey, I just might, if you don't stop interrupting me!'

He shot her a dark, dark look.

'So I was saying, Draco's been hiding in a Muggle place, since there are still Death Eaters on the loose and because they've stayed out of the Ministry's and the Order's hands for so long, there is a possibility that they'd come for people like Draco; disobeying ex-Death Eaters who hadn't been loyal to the Dark Lord.'

Ron grunted in disbelief. He still thought Malfoy was a foul, ass-kissing git who was just pretending to be on the good side.

'And whether you like him or not, I _will _visit Malfoy today. To sort things out. He said he wanted to see me, rather than you and Harry because you two are obviously not capable of thinking rationally when he starts making, er, comments. He wants to explain.'

'Yeah, he's called you a Mudblood over a thousand times and you're still going to have a nice cup of tea and a cosy get-together with him?'

'Yes, I am! And then I'll be back at the Burrow, and we'll have our own cosy get-together later, okay?'

She waggled her eyebrows at him, but her brows froze halfway through their seductive movement when Harry yelled: 'I heard that!'

Ginny's sharp voice came right after him: 'Yeah, me too, and I suddenly feel nauseous!'

'Oh, why don't we have a cosy get-together and get that nasty feeling out of you?' they heard Harry say in a low voice, and Ginny giggled in a shockingly good impersonation of Hermione at the few times she'd giggle.

'ALL RIGHT, WE GET IT!' Ron shouted upstairs, his ears red.

Hermione stood up and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead, which immediately turned a cute shade of scarlet after her lips left his skin, and she smiled at him in adoration.

Ron nodded his head in a weird way, and Hermione took that as a permission to go and see Malfoy, but he still wasn't really into her little trip when he yelled after her:

'Oh, and be sure to bring him flowers! Golly, he'd love that.'

She paid no further attention to her boyfriend, whom she now heard running upstairs to complain at Ginny and Harry, who were most likely snogging in Ginny's bedroom, and walked through the kitchen, where George was sitting, alone, surrounded by papers.

'Hey,' he said in a hoarse voice, and she pitied him when she heard the pain in it, and when she saw the dark circles under his eyes.

She brushed her hand over his hair, hastily, a little frightened whether or not to something that intimate, but he appreciated the gesture and gave her a little smile.

'Do you think I should start producing Belly Button Bubble Gum?' he asked her, though he didn't sound like he really wanted her opinion on that.

'Erm, what does it mean?' she asked uncomfortably.

'That your belly button explodes as soon as you put the gum into your mouth.'

There was an awkward silence.

'Worst idea in years, huh?'

'Yes, but, that's all –'

'No, Hermione, it's not all right. Fred would kill me if he knew I was out of ideas the second he –'

'It's all right,' she repeated, swallowing at hearing Fred's name, and she turned towards the door.

'Oh, yes, Malfoy…' George mumbled. 'Make sure you kick his ass from me.'

Hermione looked at him in utter compassion. It was weird not hearing him say 'from us'. His other half had gone and the both of them were painfully aware of it.

Mrs and mr Weasley were trying really hard to maintain their normal lives, as if there hadn't been a death in their family. As if they haven't suffered from the war that had passed.

Mrs Weasley ran through the kitchen with familiar dark circles under her eyes, chasing a garden gnome that had found his way into the house.

'Oh, hello Hermione,' she said, and Hermione smiled at her before leaving the house and turning on the spot.

After feeling the gut-wrenching, breathtaking and most unpleasant sensation of Disapparating, she landed on Tommers Road in downtown London.

One man, most likely a Muggle, looked at her in confusion, but probably shoved her sudden apparition out of nowhere away into the 'mindfuck' department of his brain.

He looked like he'd seen weirder things in his life, judging at the little bag filled with white powder in his hand.

Muggles these days, though, were not as surprised at this sort of wizard behaviour as they had used to be. Wizards had, in their awareness of Voldemort having died for good now, lost all sense of rationality and partied their weeks away, either in the Muggle or wizarding world, until about a month after Voldemort and Harry's legendary last confrontation. The Ministry, not fully recovered from the horror that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had put them through yet, but already on the mend, had made some new rules.

Any wizard acting out of the ordinary in front of a Muggle would be exposed to punishment, but still, a minority of wizards and witches, did not really care.

Hermione did, but this time, she was in a hurry.

Her conversations with Ron and George had delayed her arrival at Draco's new place, and she was really curious to what he had to say.

Even she had noticed that she tried to make a habit out of calling him by his first name, but something in Malfoy sounded so loathing and reminding of Lucius Malfoy, and therefore indirectly pointing at Death Eaters, that she'd rather not think of that name.

It was chilly outside and she watched her visible breath in the cold air.

She walked through rather abandoned alleyways with coughing and snorting junks lying here and there, using carton boxes as their blankets.

She gave them weak smiles but no money, knowing they'd only throw it away on drugs, and she was quite relieved when she saw the house Draco had described to her over the phone. A little suspicious after the speeches Ron had given her earlier that day, however, she held her wand steady before pushing the doorbell that made a sharp, ringing sound.

The front of the house had once been painted black, but the weather had been peeling it off the dark wood that it covered. It had one window, covered in filth and Hermione was not able to see through it, though she reckoned she saw a flash of white behind it, the same flash of white that appeared behind the door in a moment.

'Who is there?' said Draco Malfoy's voice softly.

'Hermione Granger,' she answered quietly, and he opened the door a little bit, before asking: 'What was the name of the hippogriff that beat me in that oaf's class in our third year?'

'The _teacher's _name would be Hagrid and the hippogriff was named Buckbeak,' she answered a little curtly after him insulting Hagrid.

He opened the door completely now and she looked at him with the same pity that had flooded her when she'd looked at George a couple of minutes earlier.

His hair was messed up, his left cheek was marked by a bright red wound and he could've easily blended in with the Weasleys if you looked at the circles under his eyes. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight and she felt the urge to hug him, immediately followed by the urge to strangle herself when having thoughts like that.

He remained, after all, Draco Malfoy and he despised her.

'Hi,' he said, his greeting accompanied by despair.

He moved out of the way to let her in and she looked around the small hallway curiously. Not much to be seen there, though, there was only a door that probably led to a toilet given the fact that it had a 'Pee for free!' sign on it.

He saw her eyes wander towards it and coughed uncomfortably.

'Not my humour, another wizard stayed here before me and his lack of humour is doomed to remain here forever, 'cause it has a Permanent Sticking Charm on it,' he said blankly.

Hermione gave him a brief look and cleared her throat.

'Right,' she answered, realizing that he probably would be anywhere rather than here, and she followed him into his small living room.

There was only one couch and a small coffee table, and a clock that made loud ticking sounds at every passing second, and she was painfully aware of the silence that hung between them.

'So, er, why did you –' she started, but just like all the other men in her life were used to, he interrupted her in the middle of her sentence by asking her if she wanted something to drink.

'Erm, okay, yeah I guess I fancy a coffee,' she said and clasped her two cold hands together.

'You know,' she said after he'd nodded and disappeared into a room that would most likely be the kitchen, 'you do have some good protection around this place, I nearly froze to death only getting here.'

Unfortunately, she'd never had the talent of joking at the right times like Ron had, or the ability of saying the right things at the right time like Ginny, so she just shut up when she heard no laughter coming from the kitchen.

She stared at a small radio in the corner that looked like the one in the Burrow and wondered if he listened to the daily reports of the dead bodies of both Death Eaters and, well, good siders that were found everywhere.

The war hadn't _really _ended; the few Death Eaters that had survived were still busy killing off people, though they didn't get really far. They'd scarcely manage to kill two people a week, but that was still two lost lives a week, and the mood was grim whenever they'd listen to the numb voices calling out the names.

Draco returned with two cups of coffee and sat down next to her, because he had no chair to sit on.

'So…' he said and made a funny noise that she couldn't explain until his eyed started watering. 'Didn't think you'd be the first human I'd see in weeks beside some junks, Granger.'

'I'd love to return the compliment,' she said coolly, noticing he still was not planning on calling her by her first name, and added: 'Malfoy. But I can't, unfortunately.'

She thought of Ron and asked: 'Why did you call me? And how do you know how to use a telephone?'

He shrugged. 'Does it look like there's much to do around here? You'll want to play with the phone after two days of being locked in here. I guess I didn't know who else to trust, and I… just wanted to see you.'

She gave him a quizzical look.

'I mean… rather than your silly little friends. I need your help.'

She took a sip from her coffee and spit it back the moment she tasted the bitter substance. That was just nasty.

'Where'd you buy that? That's gross, Malfoy! Thought you were getting used to doing Muggle stuff!'

'I er… Transfigurated it.'

'Where'd you Transfigurate it from? A rat's head? Damn, don't ever do that again. Next time, just ask me.'

He gave her a half-irritated, half-shocked look because of her tiny outburst, (if Harry and Ron were present, they'd probably tell him she could be much, much worse. Hell, she had punched him once, he _knew _she could be much, much worse.) and she smiled.

'So, what do you need my help for?' she asked after a rather uncomfortable silence and moved as far away from him as possible on the small couch, and pressed her back against the side.

He looked slightly taken aback at this movement and muttered something like:

'I shouldn't have called you. I'm sorry.'

She gave him a hard stare, then stood up and pointed her finger at his chest.

'Listen, and listen carefully! I have been arguing with Ron – Draco's nose gave a funny twitch which made her even angrier – all day, about whether or not I should visit you, and against his judgement, I did, and you'd BETTER explain to me why you gave me that desperate phone call out of NOWHERE, and you'd better explain it NOW!'

He blinked and he gazed at her index finger still pointing at his chest, as if Hermione was aiming her wand at his heart and was about to Avada Kedavra his ass.

'Now,' she said, returning to her position in the couch and giving him a swift smile, 'what exactly do you need my help for?'


	2. An unexpected alliance

**Chapter two**

_An unexpected alliance_

'He suggested to work together? _Together?_' Ron asked, and Hermione memorized their conversation earlier that day and sighed.

'Yes, Ron, together.'

She suddenly felt really tired, and gave Harry her Stare of Death when he ran into the living room looking hopeful.

'And are we joining in, too, then?' Harry asked, from which Hermione could conclude that he'd been eavesdropping shamelessly.

'Erm, no, he didn't really… say anything about you guys.'

'YEAH, BECAUSE ALL HE WANTS IS YOU! HE'S INTO YOU, AND WITH THE WAR OVER AND SUCH, HE'S JUST LOOKING FOR A GOOD SNOG!' Ron burst.

There was a short silence, and Harry and Hermione loved Molly Weasley for being alive when she announced that diner was ready.

'Do you hear that, Harry?' Hermione squealed. 'Dinner! Food!'

_Diversion!_

They were stuck between the doorposts for several seconds, before both squeezing through and diving onto the empty chairs.

'Bill and Fleur should be here any second,' Molly muttered, checking Bill's needle on her most beloved clock.

His status changed, saying he was travelling, and Molly sighed relieved, before pouring hot tomato soup into the empty bowls.

Moments later, Bill, long, red-haired and red-faced, came strutting through the back door and he smiled at them. Fleur came in after him, elegant and with suffocating beauty, as usual. Harry smiled at Fleur and Ginny glared at Harry.

Harry looked apologetically at Ginny and Ginny threw her soup at Harry.

Harry burned himself and gave an incredibly girlish shriek, was mended by a furious mrs Weasley and Ginny was sent upstairs.

'Now we can go to dinner,' Molly said calmly when an outraged Ginny marched out of the kitchen.

Hermione couldn't resist the temptation to giggle, and so she did. Her laughter was accompanied by some snorts from Ron, but the rest of the table didn't seem to enjoy their amusement, so they stopped, trying to look terribly sorry.

The family ate the rest of their soup in silence, well, that is, everyone except for Fleur, who played with her earrings after declaring that she ' 'ad 'ad enough soup, 'cause iet waz terribly 'ot and full of calories' '.

Molly threw her a terrifying look after that comment on her cooking, but Fleur didn't notice and started talking about Gringotts.

'And ze goblins are so cute zoo me! Zey are, of course, really ugly, but after working, practically living in those gross vaults every day, I can imagine myself getting dirty, too. And zey hang out with zem ugliest creatures! Oh 'Arry, you should see zem!' she laughed, still avoiding Molly's dark glances.

It wasn't until her spoon snapped in her hand that she looked at her mother-in-law.

'You should buy new spoons, Molly, zey are really fragile!'

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in terror when Molly rose from her seat, and got out of their chairs very smoothly, before running upstairs.

Harry went off to make up (and most likely make out) with Ginny, and Ron dragged Hermione upstairs.

'What's your hurry?' she asked, but he smiled and covered her eyes with his hands.

'Okay, what's going on?'

She wasn't really fond of surprises, so she stared rather gloomily into his room (after stumbling very unhappily over the doorstep) when he gave her back her eyesight.

He'd dressed up his ghoul (again! The poor thing) in a cute, pink dress that might've belonged to Ginny once, but was now covered in slime, and the ghoul was holding up a sign saying: "I love you, Hermione Granger! Will you…"

Hermione gasped and looked at Ron, but he was busy diving at his ghoul and moving its slimy hands from the rest of the sign.

She stared at the words, but was hugely relieved when it said:

"… be my date to the Potterfest?"

The Potterfest was a huge dance, organized by Hagrid, Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, that would be held two days later.

It was quite obvious that Hermione and Ron would be going together, but it was sweet he asked her via his tame, smelly monster.

'That's so sweet, Ron,' she said softly, and she smiled up at his face, now fully scarlet.

'That tone of surprise again,' he answered in the same tone and she wrapped her arms around his neck and gently kissed him on the mouth.

How clumsily he could look sometimes, he was a real good kisser and she was lost in the moment for a few seconds. Then Ron broke apart, wrinkling his nose.

'I… I'd better get him out of here, or we won't be able to sleep this night,' Ron muttered, and he slapped the ghoul on the butt in order to get him to move.

'You really like that, don't you?' she asked, smiling in a tongue-in-cheek way.

'I do!'

'Don't ever try it on me.'

He smirked and edged the ghoul out of the room, while Hermione sat down on his bed. A few seconds later, there was a small 'pop' and Harry fell on top of her lap.

'Sorry about that,' he said, and as he rolled off of her, Ginny, who had turned seventeen a couple of weeks ago, Apparated on her head.

'Wow, great aim, you guys, you're made for each other,' she said to Ginny's buttocks, but the message didn't come through as sarcastically as it was meant to sound, 'cause the sound was a little muffled by Ginny's behind covering her mouth.

Ginny giggled and Harry pulled her on top of him.

'So what are you wearing to Potterfest?' Ginny asked, lying horizontally over Harry's lap and closing her eyes slightly as he stroked her hair.

Ron, who had just came in, probably felt like a bad lover, and immediately dove onto his bed to do the same thing to Hermione. She smiled.

'Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to Diagon Alley, they opened a new store there and I heard they sell really pretty dresses. You haven't got anything yet, either, have you?' she asked, leaning to Ron's shoulder.

A sudden thought came to her. This probably would've made Draco nauseous.

She moved away from Ron a little.

_Who cares about Malfoy, anyway?_

And leaned back towards him.

'No, except my old dress robes, but they're not fancy enough for Pot –'

'I really hate that name,' Harry said grumpily. He'd written a dozen letters to both Hagrid and Luna coming up with other names, and after they'd sent polite notes back saying he could stick his suggestions up his arse (he suspected Dean had written those letters, maybe after consult with Grawp), he realized they would not let him change anything. That lack of authority pissed him off a little, but he was of course still curious for a dance entirely devoted to him.

'And you can wear whatever you want, Gin, you look beautiful to me even when you wear your dad's Muggle travelling cloak. Especially when there's nothing un –'

'CAN YOU STOP IT ALREADY?' Ron barked, ears red.

He still didn't fully support the idea of his sister and Harry doing dirty deeds, and Hermione could see why.

'So, we go tomorrow, I suppose?' Ginny asked, and Hermione nodded.

'We'll go with you!' Harry said enthusiastically.

'No, you'll just look at other girls' curves and throw curse words at the shop owners. As usual,' Ginny accused her boyfriend, and both Harry and Ron started looking around the world in a funny way that amused both of the girls.

'You can make it up by fetching us something to drink and some chocolate,' Ginny demanded, and they both Apparated, wearing cheesy smiles that were obviously fake.

'Good one, too lazy to get downstairs, too?' Hermione asked and they stretched themselves on Ron's bed.

'Hell yes,' Ginny grinned, but her smile faded swiftly as Harry tripped over Ron's carpet when he reappeared, spilling Butterbeer all over her clothes.

'YOU WERE PLOTTING THAT!' Ginny screamed, and Ron's badly hidden smirk betrayed them.

Hermione let her wand suck the liquor out of Ginny's robes and splashed it over Ron.

'What did I do?' he shrieked, before hastily cleaning himself up.

'I dressed my ghoul for you!'

'You really went through with that?' Harry sniggered, before seating himself back next to Ginny, who seemed to have forgiven him and Ron pulled a chair from behind his desk. Hermione stared at him angrily.

'So what's up with this Malfoy stuff? What did he propose? Did he look… _bad?' _Ginny asked, eager for answers, and Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees. This could take a while.

She started explaining what Malfoy had asked of her. He said he could help her track the remaining Death Eaters, something the Ministry, despite all its powers, did not entirely succeed in, but he wanted only her help, for he still didn't like Harry and Ron.

'How about me? I'm a girl and I can fight and I never did him much harm!'

Ginny pulled an angelic face, trying to cover her lies; she'd tried to curse Malfoy about a million times and her efforts had paid off several times, too. Malfoy held a strong grudge against her.

'I just don't like the idea of you going off with Malfoy alone, you know. For all we know, he might be conspiring with the Death Eaters in order to pay off his parents' debts or something.'

'He's hiding from the Death Eaters!' Hermione shot at her, not willing to believe that Draco Malfoy might still be the evil git he used to be.

'It could be a trap,' Harry said, obviously screwing up his brains trying to place Malfoy in the 'good' or 'bad' section of his brain. 'But I don't really think so, you know. He didn't sell us out last year, when we were in his house and you messed up my face. He obviously knew it was us. And his mother saved my life, in the Forest with Voldemort. I think the Malfoys want nothing more than to be a family, and Malfoy is really trying to get all the poison out of his life.

And as an honest, powerful witch, you could help him with that. Malfoy, Ron and I would just have rows all the time… Maybe you should go for it.'

Hermione gave him an appreciating nod. Harry was always there for her.

'Ron?' she asked nervously.

'As long as he doesn't touch you. Tell him he shouldn't be praising his testicles too much if he does try anything, for he won't have them much longer after that!' he said with an evil look on his face.

'I'll have jinxed his limbs off in no time if he dares to touch me, but I don't think he'll try anything, I'm a Mudblood,' Hermione said. 'He just wants to use me for getting rid of the Death Eaters, and we'll be worlds apart again.'

Ron seemed convinced.

'I hope you will. Malfoy will always be… well… Malfoy.'

'Sure. Now, Ginny, Harry, aren't you two feeling very sleepy?'

Ginny faked a yawn.

'Oh, now that you mention it! Well I guess we better should go to bed if we have shopping in front of us. I'll just go say mum goodbye.'

She popped out of the room to return about a minute later and giving Harry a good night kiss as well, not planning on caring about Ron, who deliberately tried to stare them apart.

Molly wouldn't allow the two couples to share rooms until they would be living in another house, so Hermione gave Ron a simple kiss on his cheek and said Harry good night, before following Ginny to her room.

'Ron's so sweet,' she told his sister.

'Oh, I could tell you things about him that would –'

'Ginny, don't! I know you'll be able to mess up my mind completely, but I don't care if he's peed in be when he was little or something.'

'… He did once puke over Pig,' Ginny said mischievously.

'Ew, Pig's only a few years old! When did that happen?'

They disappeared into the bedroom to gossip a little more, before Ginny fell asleep in the middle of a monologue about Harry's snogging talent.

Hermione looked at her sleeping friend for a while, before laying her head down on her own pillow as well. Discussions with Ron, Malfoy, Ron again and later on Ginny had worn her out.

Her wand killed the lights and her eyes were barely closed when she was already sleeping vastly.


	3. No, the other Potter!

_A little something on the side;_

Hermione doesn't instantly fall in love with Malfoy, okay? xD It takes some time, so there will be chapters (oh, not much, however) without him in it.

**Chapter three**

_No, the other Potter!_

'Mione, wake up! Mum's made breakfast,' Ginny roared into her ear after what felt like five minutes of sleep.

'Whatime izzit?' she asked sleepily and yawned. 'Ow come itz light already?'

'It's ten pm, you twat, get up!'

Ginny threw her hairbrush onto her bed, jumped over Hermione and ran out of the room, her long, red hair dancing behind her.

'Hey Harry!'

Hermione heard the sound of kissing and a soft groan from what would be Ron's mouth.

'And hey brother, I'd best not check up on Hermione yet, she looks awful!' she said brightly, and Hermione covered her face with her pillow.

Lazily, she dressed into a comfortable sweater and jeans, and Disapparated into the kitchen.

'Good morning, mrs Weasley, good morning, George, Percy,' she greeted Mrs Weasley, busy chasing a wild pan, and her two sons already attacking her food.

They mumbled a half-heartedly 'good morning' and she sat down next to Percy, who'd taken the morning off his new work at a book store at Diagon Alley.

He'd realized his passion was not to be Minister for Magic anymore, seeing that they just died or retired eventually, and half the wizarding community would only hate him.

Hermione was really happy he'd finally found some common sense, and although George still didn't like his brother, he'd accepted his return back into the family.

As for Mrs Weasley, she hugged Percy as much as she could and tried to make his short stays at the Burrow as pleasant as possible.

'Oh, Percy, do you like your eggs? Should I make more? Oh boy, you're too thin!'

'Mine are great, mum!' George said, but she didn't really pay attention to him.

'So are you going to work today?' Hermione asked George, and he nodded.

'What else is there to do for me? I can't let the shop assistants run the store forever. It's called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, so there must be some Weasley spirit in there, huh?'

'True. We'll drop by later today to show off our dresses for the Potterfest, okay?'

George put his finger in the hole in his head (he usually did that when he was thinking, it grossed the entire family out).

'The Potterfest, that's right… Hey, would you mind buying me some new dress robes?'

He fumbled in his pockets and pulled a little bag, undoubtedly filled with gold, out of it.

'Just something simple. Have to look good at the Fest, though, haven't I? Being one of the Potter maniacs that helped slay the Death Eaters…'

His thoughts visibly wandered off to Fred, and Hermione bit her lip, but was soon distracted by Ron, Ginny and Harry entering the cosy kitchen with a loud discussion about Veela's.

'Tell me about it,' Harry grinned. 'They're magic!'

'Yeah, especially when they turn into blood thirsty bird-creatures and try to attack you, Veela's rock!' Ginny said coldly and dropped into her seat next to Hermione.

'So what are you guys up for today – hi Percy -?' she asked Harry and Ron.

'Oh, we're just gonna play some Quidditch,' Harry said.

'Yeah,' said Ron, filling his plate with his mother's beloved scrambled eggs. He was so much happier when he could eat. 'Harry's gonna teach me some cool Seeker tricks.'

'You're planning a Seeker career?' Ginny frowned.

'No, but… it's just cool. You know,' Ron answered offended. 'And we're probably gonna head for the village, too. Ottery St. Catchpole is the place to be!'

'Sure thing,' said Ginny, eating fast and finishing soon.

She didn't like to be around her mum after Fred's death. She'd become very overprotective and liked to keep Ginny real close to her.

'Oh, Ginny darling, will you look after yourself? Shouldn't George go with you?'

'No, mum,' Ginny said loudly. 'We'll be fine. Really.'

She stormed upstairs, shortly followed by Harry, and Hermione gave Molly an apologetic look.

'She'll get over herself,' she assured her, before running after Harry and Ginny.

'She's infuriating!' the latter said some twenty minutes later, when they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom, the old bartender, gave them a toothless smile and waved at them.

'We'll drop by later, Tom!' Ginny promised him. She'd always pitied the old man, though his bar was now filled with wizards and witches from all over the country again. Two foreign wizards were sitting at the bar, giving them suggestive looks, but Ginny touched her wand as if tempted to stick it up their nose, and they turned back to their Firewhisky.

'You still have to teach me that deadly stare, Gin,' Hermione laughed and arm in arm, they walked up to the brick wall that formed the gate to Diagon Alley.

Hermione tapped the right stone and they waited patiently until there was enough space to fit through.

'So, what was that new store called?' Ginny asked curiously.

'No idea, I'm not even sure there is one. I just thought I read something about it in the Prophet's advertising space, but I was distracted by one of Rita Skeeter's articles about Harry's supposed affaire with the captain of the Holyhead Harpies,' Hermione said, her cheeks flushing bright red of pure anger. 'Merlin, how I'd like to lock her up again. This time without fresh oxygen. But the new shop thing was just to keep the boys from going with us. You know how they hate a lot of excited witches in a small place who will kill for clothes…'

'They do, however, like the idea of a lot of excited witches in a small place, preferably with them in their midst. They talk about pretty women in Ron's magazines every time they manage to get away from us.'

'But they'll always get back to us in the end,' Hermione grinned, 'for they're not able to ever get one of those girls in magazines.'

Ginny snorted. 'Well, I strongly doubt that. Harry rips his fan letters apart as soon as he gets them, but somehow they always end up under his bed, all of them whole again. It's actually pretty funny, reading how desperate those witches are, and all trying to get the Boy Who Lived into their bed.'

'Oh, but Harry wouldn't sleep with anyone until he's like, twenty-five!'

A weird smile spread across Ginny's face and Hermione's mouth formed a perfect 'O'.

'Ginny! You didn't…?'

'Nah, only fucking with your mind,' she giggled, and they stopped dead when they saw a, well, _ginormous _building in front of them.

'That wasn't there before,' Ginny said weakly. It was about as hard to miss as Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, for the fabulous coloured clothing that was displayed in the window and the long, long line of enthusiastically pointing and shrieking women standing in front of it.

'That's… big,' Hermione commented after gaping at it for a while.

'This is shopping heaven.'

The shop, called Potter's Fashion Plaza ('Uh-oh,' said Ginny, 'Harry's not going to like this.'), looked very inviting in their eyes and they hurried inside, amongst a huge crowd of witches, pushing them aside in order to get in first.

'Well that was rude,' said Ginny, who elbowed herself through the over-excited women.

'You shouldn't have done that,' Hermione bellowed at a plump witch that had just stood on her foot, and she grabbed her wand and cast a little jinx on her that made her nose-hair grow fast. While the witch clutched her nose and ran out of the queue trying to block the other witches' view on her face, Ginny and Hermione finally managed to get inside.

'Wow…' was the first thing they said, when they were able to speak.

Despite the fact that witches were running through the store trying to snatch as much clothes off the racks with shiny, expensive clothing as they possibly could, their shopping dreams had just been fulfilled.

Both possessing enough gold to purchase half the store (Hermione had almost been beaten to death to get a couple of interviews out of her, and, finally, she'd given them, receiving a _lot _of money. Also, Harry had given both her, Ron and the entire Weasley family half his fortune, for all the damage and pain he'd caused over the previous years. Actually, he'd sort of forced them to take it, and when they still refused, he just had it transferred to their Gringotts vaults, and after they'd had it sent back, the battle only stopped when the goblins refused to do their bidding any more, and Harry had won the battle.), they started looking for cute robes and tops and skirts as soon as they'd found some empty racks, completely forgetting their quest of buying new dresses.

It wasn't until someone yelled: 'Hey, isn't that Potter's friend Hermione Granger and his _girlfriend _Ginny Weasley?' loud enough for the whole store to hear, and almost all the heads turned to gaze at them (giving others the opportunity to steal clothes out of the momentarily unfocused witches hands), that a tiny woman hurried towards them.

'Miss Granger, miss Weasley! Or should I say _Mrs Potter_? Rita Skeeter wrote an interesting article about your secret wedding, congratulations!'

She calmly blew a witch that threw herself at Ginny and tried to pull out her hair away with her wand, and smiled at Ginny.

'I'm sorry,' she said, 'that was very inconvient.'

'Harry and I are not married,' Ginny said through gritted teeth.

'Yet…' whispered the woman in a confidential tone, and she winked at the pair of them.

Hermione gave her a cold look and looked at the lady's name tag that said 'Nita Parkinson'. No wonder the woman was trying to make Ginny's life hell.

However, she was forced to say: 'Miss Weasley, miss Granger, you have been invited to our VIP room, where we have the most exclusive clothes for you and – _you didn't weigh two hundred pounds when you came in, mrs Donaughan! _Excuse me, ladies, my colleague Lena – LENA! – will escort you to the VIP collection.'

'I like the sound of that,' Ginny said to Hermione, before a young witch with bright orange hair came rushing up to them and smiled broadly.

'Welcome to Potter's Fashion Plaza!' she welcomed them, as if they'd just stepped in.

'Yeah, about that name –' Ginny started, but Lena interrupted her smoothly.

'I bet you two are dying to see what we have got in store for you…'

She grabbed one arm of both of them with a surprisingly firm grip, and only loosened up a little when Hermione gave a little squeal of pain.

'So when did you open this place?' she asked Lena, who marched them through the shop, giving staring witches a hard time by smiling at them with her blindingly white teeth.

'Oh, just today, that's why there's such an uproar at the door. But hey, who wouldn't want to wear Potter's handmade collection of exclusive, stunningly beautiful clothes!'

'Oh, if only Harry had such a taste of fashion,' Ginny sighed.

'Harry? Oh, this has nothing to do with _Harry _Potter!' Lena said, laughing an annoyingly fake laugh, 'it's the newest collection of the known fashion designer Aurelia Potter, my grandmother and not in the slightest way related to Harry Potter!'

'Yeah, I bet she had that name when she was born,' Ginny murmured, when she got out of Lena's sight for a good second, when she rushed through a door, gesturing that they should follow her.

Another 'wow' left their lips when they saw the big room they had just entered.

There were two people in the room, youngsters like Lena, smiling at them and dressed in dresses so tight Hermione didn't wonder why their faces were bright scarlet.

'Welcome to Potter's Fashion Plaza!' they said their well-formulated hello's, and one of them snatched Ginny away from Hermione; the other took care of her.

'Tell me what you are looking for!' the witch with 'Selina' on her pink nametag said to her. Her face was hollow and her eyes were grey and looked slightly dead.

Hermione didn't think she loved her job, perhaps due to the fact that their workplace was flooded by either stealing or fighting women.

'Erm, I was wondering if you had any dresses. Or dress robes, but I don't want them to be too formal. It's for the Potterfest, you know.'

'You're invited to the Potterfest?' the witch named Selina gasped.

'Oh my… Merlin's beard, do you think you could hook me up with tickets? I've been trying to get them for ages, but they all say you can only enter when you're invited! Are you allowed to bring guests with you?'

'Yeah, you are,' Hermione said, hopping from one foot to the other, 'but erm – I erm, already have a guest, I'm sorry.'

'Oh,' Selina answered coolly, as if it was Hermione's fault she wouldn't bring a total stranger to a dance. 'Well, then I think I should better show you our best dressing gowns. You know, 'cause _you _will need one.'

'Ehm… Yeah, that's sort of… why I came here in the first place,' Hermione said uncomfortably, and she sat down on an armchair Selina conjured for her.

'SURE!' she said and she walked out of the room. Hermione threw a quick glance at Ginny, who was violently being squeezed into a bright yellow dress that coloured horribly with the rest of her.

'WELL, THAT DOESN'T LOOK TOO WELL, HUH?' said the witch helping her, who was incredibly ugly, she looked somewhat like Umbridge. She stared with unmistakable jealousy at Ginny's long hair, and Ginny took a deep breath.

'Erm, how about we take this monster off and find something… I don't know, nice and green or gold, or something?' she proposed, and her witch looked as angry as Selina.

'We've got to get out of here!' Hermione mouthed, who expected to be chained to the chair any second now.

'I know!' Ginny mouthed back, now sitting in an armchair similar to Hermione's, but there was no time to run; Selina and her colleague came marching back at them, both holding up a beautiful dress.

'Oh, that's so pretty!' Hermione exclaimed, looking at the snowy white dress robes Selina was holding.

'Oh, so glad you like it,' Selina sneered, 'I hope your hips will fit in it!'

Hermione gulped and felt ready to jinx the brat, but just hoped the I'm-going-to-Potterfest-and-you'll-be-stuck-in-your-living-room-all-alone message would reach Selina by giving her an excruciatingly happy smile.

'Yeah, me _too!_ I can't wait to try it on!'

Unhappily, Selina helped her into the dress, that was simply breathtaking (literally, it was feeling corset-like), wide below the waist and extremely low-cut at the back, but Hermione was willing to take this dress merely of the dreamy expression Selina had when looking at the dress, she could always fix it later.

'Oh Mione, that's beautiful!' Ginny said in a happy voice. Her witch was running out of the room again; Ginny had probably had complaints about the short, blue dress she'd been offered.

'You think so?' Hermione asked, looking at herself in a huge mirror.

'You know it is,' Selina groaned.

'Oh, that's right, I _do! _Oh, I'll take it, if you want me to wear it that much. You can gift-wrap it, I like that.'

Hermione had seen another salesgirl wrapping a sweater in fancy paper, sliding it into a box, wrapping that box again and putting it into a pretty little bag.

'Sure,' Selina said, probably feeling like using Unforgivable Curses on Hermione and her dress, but she merely put a bit of effort into trying to rip the dress apart as she opened it for Hermione.

'Be careful there!' Hermione told her, 'the designer would probably have you pay for that if you tore it apart!'

She got no answer.

'Oh, Ginny, _that's _beautiful!' Hermione gasped when Ginny had got into a golden dress, like she'd asked for. It was shorter than Hermione's, edgier, making Ginny look really pretty.

'You should go for it,' she continued when Ginny looked into the mirror with slight uncertainty.

'I should, shouldn't I? Well, okay. Oh, gift-wrap mine too, if you please!' she told Selina who was just about to leave the room, seeming to find her as annoying as Hermione did.

At last, they strolled out of the store, both with a nicely wrapped box (Selina didn't get the chance to mess it up when the shop manager stopped by to greet them) in a nice bag.

'I hate shopping,' Hermione declared as she shoved her arm through Ginny's.

'Me too. Let's get a drink.'


	4. Potterfest

_Little note;_

Just a tiny chapter this time, they'll get bigger and bigger after this, lol. Thanks for the reviews! I'll keep updating daily, I think.

**Chapter four**

_Potterfest_

'I think she might have cast a Shrinking Spell on it,' Ginny mumbled, her dress stuck halfway through its way down, and she squealed: 'Hermione! Help!'

Hermione, already in her own white dress, hurried over to Ginny who was having trouble breathing, and pulled the dress down.

'There! Stupid jealous counter girls,' she complained.

'Ginny, we've got to GO!' Harry shouted from downstairs. 'We're supposed to arrive early!'

Harry and Ginny would be the first ones to dance (not something Harry looked forward to), and open the dance for everyone else. Ron had been bugging Harry about it for a couple of weeks.

'I'm not ready!' Ginny hissed at Hermione, who quickly came to her aid by brushing her hair.

'It's nice like this, you look pretty. Now go, he's obviously bleeding nervous for tonight,' said Hermione, who thought she sounded like Mundungus Fletcher.

When she'd given Ginny a little squeeze and the latter had ran off to Harry, Hermione could finally go and prepare herself. She and Ron didn't have to leave for another thirty minutes. Her hair was a bitch, as usual, but she pulled the trick for the third time; her hair was nice and straight, and she quickly put on a little make-up when Ron started crying hurry up's and come ON's to her, too.

Quite happy with the result, she wrestled her feet into her white pumps and tried to locate Ron's position to Disapparate into his arms, but unable to do that because he was probably pacing up and down the hall, she decided to just walk down the stairs as graciously as she could.

She stood looking at Ron's back (not an unpleasant sight, but she preferred his front) at the bottom step and cleared her throat loudly.

'Mione! What took – woah.'

'How do I look?' she asked, obviously hinting he'd better throw her some compliments.

'Better than ever, I'm glad I didn't ask the ghoul to be my date after all.'

She accepted his arm and smiled at him.

'Don't be mean! He would've looked very pretty in this dress, I'm sure.'

She looked him up and down and added: 'You look handsome, stranger.'

He did look a bit unlike Ron. He'd done something to his hair, which now had some sort of Harry effect on it, but she had always liked Harry's messy hair, and with Ron's face beneath it, it was picture perfect to her.

'So, ready to go, beautiful?' he asked her and George made puking noises while he strode past them.

'Shut up, earless!' said Ron in a bit of a rude way. He'd been very careful with making jokes to George, but he didn't seem to take it too badly.

'See you at the Fest, Harry, Hermione,' he replied grinning and Disapparated to his date's house. Apparently she was a 'mysterious, sexy stranger whom had always admired him'.

Ron had guessed he was paying someone to be his date, unfortunately being overheard by Mrs Weasley, who attempted to push him down the stairs.

'Well, we'd better go.'

Ron checked his multifunctional watch, grabbed her hand and they turned on the spot.

'… Think I lost my upper lip,' he mumbled moments later, and Hermione turned at him in concern.

She giggled. He hadn't shaven in a few days and apparently his moustache-to-be had been ripped off of his face.

'Your upper lip is fine. You're getting better!'

He frowned and touched his lips. 'Are you sure?'

'Sure as can be!'

She took the liberty to touch his lips as well.

Then they both turned around to look at the place they'd just Apparated into; they stood in an old courtyard, next to two heavily breathing dogs. They looked really hungry and Hermione shrieked.

'Oh, great job, you've done it all wrong!' Hermione snapped, before sighing and Disapparating again.

Together with a slightly grumpy Ron, she had entered a whole new environment.

They were standing in downtown London, in front of what looked like an empty warehouse. Luckily the invitation had warned them about this, for if it hadn't, they'd probably think they had Disapparated wrong again. Witches and wizards in pretty robes and dresses were crowded in front of the large building, all waiting to get inside. Ron and Hermione were VIP's (Hagrid had read a Muggle magazine and loved the idea, and therefore chose about two hundred people to be VIP's at the party, including a couple of centaurs), so they could enter immediately.

'Wow,' Ron said quasi-impressed, 'they actually made an effort!'

'You don't know that, Ron,' Hermione shrugged, 'I don't think they'll actually have a dance in an empty warehouse. Don't forget we're _wizards.'_

'Yeah, we are! We can do… magic!' Ron exclaimed, as if realizing it for the first time in his life.

Before he would be carried away and trying out cool magic tricks with his wand, Hermione clasped his hand firmly and started walking towards it.

A red carpet that looked rather out of place was welcoming them, and next to the door stood Hagrid, for once dressed in a hairless suit. He was accompanied by about a dozen witches and wizards with camera's and eager faces, undoubtedly journalists.

'Ron! Hermione!' Hagrid yelled at them, and his black eyes shone in happiness.

'You look ruddy fantastic!'

They said: 'Hey, Hagrid!' and waved at him, happy to see their biggest (take this literally, Grawp could, even though he was now close to behaving like a human, not yet be accepted as a real friend) friend again.

Ron took his 'humble-friend-of-Harry-Potter-pose' and Hermione smiled at the cameras, before they went inside.

'You're gonna love it, the both of yer! Luna, Dean and meself, we make a great team, we do!' Hagrid called after them, looking sentimental.

'I bet you do, I'm sure we'll love it, Hagrid!' Hermione smiled at Hagrid, and they went inside. Hermione looked backwards to see who were VIP's as well, and saw McGonagall march up the red carpet, with a most excited professor Flitwick running to keep up with her.

'So happy to be here!' he screamed at the journalists, barely understandable through the noise of the chatting crowd. 'So happy! I feel so privileged!'

Hermione looked at her former professors in a bit of a nostalgic way, but there was no time for _what if… _questions.

She'd chosen to help Harry on his journey and without her help (and her beaded bag); she knew as well as the other two, they wouldn't have gotten very far.

Yes, she'd done the right thing.

Inside, they entered a whole new world.

The party was Hogwarts-themed, and the banners of all of the four houses (though Slytherin's was slightly smaller than the other three) decorated the walls.

The enormous space was not yet crammed with wizards and witches, but they knew that was only a matter of time. There were dozens of house-elves patrolling through the warehouse (which was magically enlarged, even despite the enormous amount of room it already provided), all wearing the same little black suits and holding up trays too big for them.

Hermione thought she recognized Winky, but was not sure (and ashamed of this).

There were loads of high tables with red or black table-cloths on them and from what seemed to be beneath the floor were bright lights shining up at them.

A couple of feet away from them, they saw Luna running up at them in a long, blue dress, apparently not caring about her killer heels while sprinting.

'Welcome, welcome!' she said cheerily, and in a way sounded like professor Trelawney. Ron had obviously noticed too, for he backed away a bit, making apologetic faces.

'Hey, Luna! What a great job you've done…' Hermione said, gesturing at the huge food table where no food was on, just a sign saying: 'What you wish, you will receive!' and a lot of little notebooks.

'Oh, yeah, it's really cool! The Hogwarts house-elves heard rumours of the Potterfest and all of them offered to help out! If you write something on those magic notebooks, they will prepare it for you!' Luna beamed, and she held out her hands.

Confused, they took them and she led them to the big, wooden door.

'We've changed our plans! Ginny and Harry will still open the dance, but _you _will join them in the middle of the first song!'

'What?' Ron squealed. 'You've got to be kidding me!'

Hermione looked at him and practically saw his brains rattling, thinking:

'_At least I've got dress robes that aren'__t ancient'_, and to her great shame, she was thinking the exact same thing.

Luna pushed them through the big door, where Harry, Ginny, Dean and somehow, professor Slughorn, were awaiting them.

'I believe I'm gonna throw up, mate,' Ron told Harry, indeed looking slightly green, sitting down next to his best friend.

Hermione said hellos to Dean and Ginny and stared at Slughorn, who was wearing emerald green robes with embroidery on it. Wrapped around his neck was a expensive-looking silver scarf, and lately, he seemed to have enjoyed more of his favourite candy than ever, judging by the size of his belly.

'Well, children, from what my sources tell me,' he started, throwing a furtive look at Dean, who looked rather unhappy, 'your dancing abilities have suffered some serious damage by not practicing over the last few years!'

He shot all four of them mean glances, as if it was their fault they'd been trying to stop Voldemort and fight evil away.

'We're genuinely sorry and apologize for every non-taken opportunity to put on our dancing shoes and go for it,' Ron said, sounding quite truthful.

Harry and Hermione grinned at each other and looked back at Slughorn, who was looking at Ron in a very compassionate way.

'Ah, my dear boy, I _understand! _Of course, your insecurity has possessed you over the years, I'm happy to see that you have changed your attitude! Very brave!'

'WHAT MADE YOU THINK I WAS INSECURE?' Ron roared, but Slughorn gave him a vague wave, and Ron calmed down.

'Anyway, I will show you some dancing moves to loosen up those muscles!'

He gave Ginny a little squeeze in a muscle we will not name here, and she swung her arm forwards and hit him full in the face.

'DO THAT AGAIN AND I'LL SHOW YOU MUSCLES! Ginny screamed, adding 'professor' in obvious sarcasm and revulsion.

Slughorn drew his wand in agony.

'Must be something in that Weasley blood of yours!' he breathed, yet loud enough for Ron and Ginny to hear. They chased him all the way to the door, and he almost made a dive for it. From the other side of the door they heard laughter, and they started to laugh themselves, too.

'How comical that was,' Harry concluded after a while, and they all agreed.

Hermione was feeling quite nervous now; she could dance, of course, but Ron was horrible. She reckoned Ginny was mulling over the same thing, too; Harry had proven not to be that much of a dancer at the Yule Ball, where Parvati Patil had almost tripped over him.

'Maybe we should just dance together and let them be,' Hermione offered in a low voice, and Ginny giggled.

'Nah, the Potterfest wouldn't be the same without Potter, would it?'

'You just _love _to see Harry suffer, don't you?'

'Oh, more than anything,' Ginny answered, but they were interrupted by Dean jumping up and laughing broadly at them.

'Uh-oh, I believe it's time.'

'Everyone we invited plus a couple of reporters are inside!' he said happily, and slowly, they rose to their feet.

'Do we have to?' Ron whined.

'Yes, you do,' said Dean, not attempting to hide his excitement about them going to be humiliated in front of hundreds of people.

And before they knew it, Dean had pushed Ginny and Harry through the door, yelling: 'Good luck, lovebirds!'

Ron sighed and looked at Dean. 'Pathetic. You're _so _not over Ginny.'


	5. Shall we dance?

**Chapter five**

_Shall we dance?_

As an answer to Ron's previous insult (based on truth), Dean gave him a not so gentle nudge out of the door a minute later.

Ron stumbled onto the dance floor, dragging Hermione with him.

The place was now completely crowded, and everyone surrounding the enormous dance floor was cheering and applauding for them.

She quickly restored her balance and had him place his hand on her wrist.

'Okay, nice and easy,' she instructed calmly, as his ears flushed red and he seemed to be hyperventilating.

'That's it… And one, and two, and three, and four…'

She looked over his shoulder in an attempt to look at Ginny and Harry, who looked rather moronic given the fact that Harry was completely unable of dancing, but barely got to look at them properly, because Ron started breathing heavily again.

'One step back and one step forward, turn and _lift,' _Hermione whispered and she smiled at a man with greasy hair who held an oversized camera.

Ron grabbed her by the waist and swung her through the air, and she had trouble keeping her face normal.

'Ron, don't ever do that again if you do not want to see me nauseous!' she snapped when he'd put her back on the ground.

'I'm sorry 'Mione, it's just… I was just thinking about grabbing you elsewhere and I was unfocused and –'

Hermione's shocked face would be the front page picture for every large wizard magazine the following morning.

It was a huge relief to the trio and Ginny when Luna took the initiative of taking Hagrid by the hand (it has to be said, that was done with difficulty) and leading him to the dance floor, taking most of the attention away from the four horrible dancers.

She looked really cute, dancing with Hagrid's knees, and Hagrid's happy sobs were worth a million to Hermione. She glared at Ron, who didn't look touched by this sight at all, but was trying to lure the food out of a fat wizard's hands.

'Can't you just for ONE second try and not think about food, Ronald Weasley?'

'It's hard, but I'll try,' Ron answered, lifting her up again, having her cling on to him for dear life.

'We'll work on that at home,' she said.

'We won't have to, I'm never gonna dance again! Ever!'

Hermione stared at him. 'We'll see about that, mister.'

More and more couples joined them on the dance floor, and soon, the entire hall was filled with swirling and waltzing people, forming one big blur of colours.

Hermione recognized more than fifty dresses and robes from Potter's Fashion Plaza, and was happy Ginny and herself had been taken to the VIP room.

'Isn't this beautiful, Ron?' she asked, infatuated with the scene.

'Yeah, brilliant. Come on, I want food.'

Hermione suspected Ron of plotting a night of food and drinks and no dancing, or at least as little as possible.

And indeed they spent at least fifteen minutes over there, while Ron ate like a beast that hadn't been fed in three months, and drank Firewhisky like pumpkin juice.

She couldn't resist.

'Now I know why I preferred a charming Quidditch champion to come with me to the Yule Ball.'

Ron snorted above his steak. 'You only went with _him _because you were convinced no-one else was planning to ask you.'

This topic had not been spoken of for a couple of years, and old wounds were ripped open at once.

'Yeah, I was _so _desperate that I went with the most wanted boy at Hogwarts!'

'Exactly,' said Ron, no longer paying attention.

'That's it, I've had it with you, you animal!' Hermione spat, and she stood up to leave him like Padma Patil had done four years ago.

Receiving no reply was even more infuriating than getting an angry one, and concluding that Ron did not care about her tonight, she wandered through the crowd, looking for a sign of Harry, Ginny, actually anyone besides Ron.

She ended up dancing with Xenophilius Lovegood.

'How are you tonight, young miss Granger?' he asked, performing a decent English waltz with her.

'Perfect,' she replied, and for a couple of moments, they were quiet.

'I'm afraid there are still things left unsaid between us, miss Granger,' Xeno said quietly, spinning her around while he spoke.

'About last year, I suppose? That's all right. It's what any parent who had lost his child would do. Any reasonable parent. I'm quite certain Harry and Ron hold no grudge at all towards you.'

The previous song had been replaced by a real slow one (Hermione looked up at the elevating DJ booth angrily, imagining painful pictures of her and Ron slow dancing), and Hermione released herself from Mr Lovegood's grip.

'I'm truly sorry, but I have to go find someone,' she said, 'it was a real pleasure dancing with you!'

He waved after her, then suddenly yelling: 'How did things end with the Deathly Hallows? Did you find any?'

She swallowed. 'No, we actually sort of forgot about them after the uproar at your house, Mr Lovegood!'

Xeno seemed to accept this for an answer and yelled:

'Too bad, I'm sure that if you would have put some effort into it, you would have find them, even though you think it's only a kid's tale!'

Wow. He definitely still held some grudge against _her. _And her sense of reason.

She quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Crying silently, she was on her way to the ladies' room, ready to sob her night away, when she bumped into someone.

Wiping her hair out of her face, she looked up at the wizard and gasped.

'Draco!'

Incredibly embarrassed, she found herself looking around for a woman to accompany him.

Draco seemed to have noticed her quick eye movements, for he smiled in his mean Malfoy way and said: 'No, just me tonight, Her – Granger.'

'You were gonna call me Hermione!' she said astonished.

'So? You're calling me Draco, now,' he answered, like she was making a habit out of calling him some rude nickname.

'That's completely different!'

'In what way?'

'Well… You're Draco Malfoy. I'm Hermione Granger,' she said slowly, as if trying to explain that one plus one was really two to an unwilling infant.

'Doesn't make any sense, Granger,' he pointed out to her, and she was embarrassed once again, this time for checking him out.

He actually looked quite good, wearing green robes.

Well, not _good, _he'd never look good to her, just… handsome.

_No, Hermione, handsome is not the right word! It's just, he looks charming. Oh God, you're just making things worse._

She looked at him in utter shame, but found him staring somewhere between her belly button and her throat. Go figure.

'Draco Malfoy!' she said, insulted. 'You're just like any other man!'

Wait. Had she just… stated that she thought he wasn't like any other man?

_Merlin's tight boxer short, save me!_

'I have to go. Look for Ron. Oh, and I don't think I'll be able to help you with your Death Eater search. Not unless you let Harry and Ron come with me. Or, well. No. It's not going to work,' she said in a firm voice, and she was quite proud of her independence.

She turned around, her dress fluttering around her legs, but was stopped by Draco's arm gripping hers.

'What?' she asked in a rather desperate voice.

Clearly in some sort of whim, he asked: 'Shall we dance?'

'What?'

They stared at each other in total horror.

'What did I just say?' he asked her.

'You asked, sh –'

'I know what I said!'

'Then why do you ask?'

'Well I didn't mean to say it, of course!'

The total awkwardness between them was one hundred percent touchable.

'So you think I'm despicable and not dance-worthy!' Hermione said, feeling angrier than she should.

'That's not what I said!'

'Well then you shouldn't have withdrawn your request!'

'You make it sound like it's some sort of crime that I won't dance with you, Granger!'

'YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SUGGESTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!' she screamed in his face, but lowered her voice when she saw surrounding wizards stare.

Someone placed a hand on her wrist and she suddenly felt sick when she saw the freckles on the back of the hand, looking at the other hand clinging on to her arm, belonging to Draco's.

'Let her go,' Ron's voice said, sounding quite exasperated.

Draco did not let go.

'Let her go. I'm not kidding,' Ron said and Hermione felt ready to cry.

Actually, she was still crying, she just hadn't noticed. She placed her hand on her cheek and felt the tear tracks running down her face.

Draco's hand did not move, though his eyes were flashing from left to right, as if trying to find escape routes.

'Oi! Didn't you hear me?' Ron asked again, now drawing his wand. 'You're really barking up the wrong tree, there!'

Hermione wanted to say something to both Ron and Draco, but felt she'd just heat it all up; Ron would probably throw a good punch at Draco with any word that came out of her mouth.

'Ron…' she finally said, but Draco, at last, loosened his grip to eventually let go completely.

'You can have her; I was _just _teaching her a lesson. Granger, if you want to go through with my plan, come to my place Tuesday afternoon, if you don't, well, I'll suppose this is… goodbye.'

She nodded, not knowing what to say to either of them, and waited until he had disappeared into the crowd.

Ron turned Hermione towards him and lifted up her chin with his warm hand.

'Hey, it's all right,' he whispered, examining her for any scratches or bruises and coming to the jumping conclusion that he hadn't hurt her.

'Did he cause any mental pain or something? I suppose looking into his hideous face isn't your number one thing to do, but getting you to cry? That privilege belonged to Snape only!'

Hermione felt so relieved at his presence that she threw herself into his arm and muttered: 'I'm all right… Was just upset… You know, about you.'

This time, she praised the DJ for playing another slow tune, giving her an excuse to linger in Ron's arms a little longer.

'Shall we dance?' Ron asked her in a sort of groaning voice, but she merely cried harder at those doomed, doomed words.

She muttered something which Ron took for a yes, and they shuffled around for a while.

'Thank you, Ron,' she said softly.

'Oh, I really hate dancing,' he answered and she laughed.

A couple of minutes later, they were joined by Harry, who was all over the place, hugging people and signing autographs. Ginny gave him weird looks and dragged him over to Hermione and Ron.

'He's gone mental. Been talking about how he hates the attention for weeks and now he loves it!'

'I don't _love _it, Gin, it's just… Well, if they want a hug, who am I to refuse?'

'You refused the bald, rat-faced guy who wanted to hug you.'

'Can you blame me?'

Ginny turned to face Hermione.

'What happened to you?'

'Had a little accident,' she answered, avoiding Ginny's piercing eyes.

'Sure. Ron, what happened to her?'

'She ran into Malfoy.'

'Oh, can get why you started crying, then,' said Ginny, poking Harry, who looked at two blonde witches batting their eyelashes at him as fast as they could.

'Try and seduce him again and I will jinx you,' Ginny said in her sweetest voice.

'Oh, I love it when you get dangerous,' Harry replied, but before he could whisper more sexy comments into her ear, they heard a sickeningly familiar voice behind them coo:

'Young love!'

Hermione shot Rita Skeeter, dressed in a purple jacket with matching skirt, carrying with her her beloved Quick-Quotes Quill, her famous Look of Death.

'Haven't you thought of anything better in four year's time? You could write 900 pages of crap about Dumbledore!'

Rita returned her vicious stare and growled:

'Witty, aren't you?'

'Why are you invited?' Harry interfered in a loathing voice.

'There are six hundred people here; they need someone to spice it up a little!'

'Yeah, like I asked, why are _you _invited?'

She gave him a blinding smile; she seemed to have increased her number of shiny fake teeth.

'Not my friend anymore then, Potter? Oh, I wonder what the Daily Prophet readers will think about your passionate love affaire with Gabrielle Delacour.'

'Gabrielle's here?' Ron asked.

'Yeah,' said Ginny, 'and she touched Harry's hand. You're right, Rita, how could I have been so blind and naive? They are obviously bed partners!'

Rita threw her arm around Ginny's shoulder.

'It's all right. Men are scum, even Potter, hero of the day. No wonder I turned lesbian!'

Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and a nearby journalist all fell silent at her last words.

'SCRATCH THAT,' Rita bellowed at her Quick-Quotes Quill, as Harry pulled Ginny towards him, wrapping his arms around her as if to protect her from the lesbian Skeeter monster.

The journalist snapped a picture of Rita and ran away, almost immediately followed by a furious Rita.

'You Confunded her, didn't you?' Ron asked Hermione with a happy smirk.

'No, Ron,' Hermione said aghast. 'I didn't.'

Ron stared at her in confusion.

'Then… she's not only a cockroach, she's a _lesbian _one, too! God, that's revolting.

I always had a nice image of girl on girl, but –'

'Ron, enough, you're nauseating me,' said his sister.

The rest of the evening passed quite peacefully. The wizarding band The Weird Sisters came and perform for about an hour, making the crowd go out of their minds, and Hermione didn't catch the slightest glimpse of Draco.

When evening had faded and night had come, and most of the wizards had gone home, Hermione went to get her coat.

'Wait right here!' she told Ron, and set off to the cloakroom.

She almost tripped over an empty Butterbeer bottle and turned while trying to keep standing. On her right, she saw Dean and Luna, to her surprise not dancing but kissing intensely.

Dean's hands were tangled in Luna's long, blonde hair and Hermione felt like an impostor in their intimate moment, but it made no difference; they didn't look like they were ready for a breath pause yet, and Hermione was not noticed.

She smiled and felt a sudden rush of love for the both of them. Walking by quietly, though her footsteps wouldn't be heard through the chattering of wizards and witches and the music, anyway, she ran into Hagrid.

He was crying again and held a giant, red handkerchief in his hand.

'I – I can't believe they're getting' it on!' he sobbed.

'Oh, Hagrid, don't you think it's cute, then?' Hermione asked, patting him on the back.

'I think it's brilliant! I set the whole Potterfest up with the two of them just to get them together!'

Hermione gaped at him. 'Not to… you know, honour Harry?'

'Oh, that, too, but the reason it's this big, is 'cause I wanted 'em to spend some time together. And i- it worked!'

He burst into tears again and Hermione sighed happily.

'Good night, Hagrid. Thanks so much for giving us an enchanting evening.'

He pulled her into a breathtaking hug. And if you want to take this literally, please do, Hermione was feeling almost claustrophobic, trapped between his huge arms and large, well, rest of his body.

When she'd finally found Ron again, ten minutes later, she had a backache and was happy to land in Ginny's room not long afterwards.

'Harry and I had the most romantic evening,' Ginny said as soon as Hermione Apparated into the room, but Hermione didn't catch their snogging details;

Screwing up her dress doing so, she fell face-forward onto the field bed and slept right away.


	6. Ron Weasley, headchewer by nature

**Chapter six**

_Ron Weasley; head-chewer by nature_

'So… you're going to go through with this?' Ginny asked, throwing a gnome at Harry, who was showing off his Seeker talent by catching it one-handed and stuffing it in the fruit basket they used to round them all up in.

Hermione gave her a brisk nod. 'I am.'

Ron's voice came from out of the tree they were sitting under, and in his fury he dropped a couple of gnomes on their heads.

'Ouch!' Hermione exclaimed, grabbing her wand and Stunning the biting and gnawing garden gnomes. Ginny simply kicked away the remaining little buggers.

'Way to go, Gin!' Ron said enthusiastically, before turning his now mad face to Hermione. He'd turned slightly pink.

'You're gonna go to Malfoy?'

'Yes, I feel like I should help him. He's all alone and he's as stupid as a Hippogriff's left buttock, he'd be killed in instants. I'll help him and then I'll finally start making some career.'

'No you won't, you'll be at home, with the children!' Ron teased her, somehow trying to change the subject, and she gave him the Look of Danger.

'You'd better get out of that tree before she jinxes it to Romania,' Harry advised him helpfully.

'I'm all right,' Ron said, yet letting go of the branch he was sitting on and landing on the soft grass.

Hermione breathed heavily. 'Don't wake the feminism inside me,' she grunted.

She covered her ears with her gloves, in order to warm them up a little.

'I'm bloody freezing,' Ron said, translating her body movements into English.

'Let's go inside and see if Mum's got any of that nice stew she promised making me.'

'It's three o'clock, Ron,' Ginny said disapproving.

'So? Stomach says three o'clock is the time to eat!'

'Oh yeah, listen to the voices inside! People have gotten to St Mungo's for less, you know,' Ginny called after Ron, who ran to the kitchen, led by his need for food.

'I can't stay, gotta go to Malfoy's,' Hermione said when the other two gave her what-are-you-waiting-for looks.

'Should I come with?' Harry asked.

'Nah, you should go and taste Molly's delicious cooking. I'll be fine on my own.'

She hugged the pair of them and Disapparated off of the Burrow's grounds.

This time prepared for the junkies, she muttered curses under her breath, secretly pointing her wand at the poor fellows, making them see visions of their selves in office buildings and with wives and children.

'I… I should make something outta me life!' one said in an epiphany.

'I should ask Marriet to marry me!' another one yelled at the sky.

'Marriet's that downtown whore, right?' a third junk croaked.

'AND I LOVE HER!' the man screamed back, his voice dominating the streets.

'You go,' Hermione whispered, before passing them in a hurry, back to the house where Malfoy was located.

'Who's there?' his voice called once again, sounding slightly tense, and weird in a way, too.

'Hermione Granger,' she answered patiently.

'What are you doing here?'

She frowned.

'I changed my mind, of course! I will help you. So now let me in, it's cold outside!'

As a demonstration of this fact, she breathed little clouds into the freezing air, unfortunately not seen by Malfoy.

'Well no way I'm letting you in, liar!'

He opened the door a little and stuck his face through the tiny gap. She let out a little scream.

'What tried to chew _your _head off?' she asked, disgusted.

His head was pink and puffy, somewhat like Harry's last year at Malfoy Manor, when Hermione had jinxed him. His eyes were half-closed and it looked like he wasn't able to see quite well. His hair was messed up and dry blood was still visible on his forehead.

He let out a Grawp-like roar of displeasure. 'Don't play stupid with me, you know bloody well what I'm talking about, you filthy M -…ione.'

It surprised her that he wasn't using the term Mudblood.

Supposedly because he would be locked up; people who used it were punished severely for reminding them of the pure-blood mania that had frightened the wizarding population years and years, both in the first reign of Voldemort and the second.

But as his parent's had kissed a lot of asses to get out of Azkaban, he would probably be able to do the same thing.

'I don't,' she cried, 'but I could heal that! I've been working on my healing spells ever since –'

'I don't _care!' _he bellowed. 'Just get out of my face, you just came here to have a nice laugh about what your lovely boyfriend did to me!'

'I'm sorry?' she said, her throat suddenly feeling dry and raw.

'I said, get out of my face,' he repeated, but she didn't move nor speak.

Eventually, she hissed: 'Ron would never do such a thing.'

'Well he bloody well DID! I saw his ugly, freckled face well enough to know, Granger, 'cause I've seen it far too much in my life!'

'Well you've seen enough of _me _in your life, too! Find some other witch who doesn't completely despise you – wait, I do. Good luck.'

She prepared to turn on the spot, wrapping her cloak tightly around her, but Malfoy let out a weird scream that made her wait.

'What?' she said, infuriated and confused and waiting for him to deny what he'd just accused Ron of.

'You really didn't know he did this?'

'OF COURSE I DIDN'T, YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER RETARD, IF I WOULD'VE ASKED ANYONE TO DO SOMETHING TO YOU, I WOULDN'T'BE HERE TO CHECK IF THEY DID IT RIGHT, THAT WOULD'VE BEEN SUSPICIOUS, WOULDN'T IT?'

She started to pound her fists on his front door, not knowing in what way that would be of any help, but it felt good. She screamed a little more insults at him, but her constant rambling was stopped acutely when he opened the door and had her fell into his house.

She shrieked and hit the floor, demonstratively staring at the floor, trying not to look at Malfoy.

'Why'd you do that?' she muttered angrily.

'Well, otherwise you might've smashed in my front door by pure strength,' he sneered, and she rolled over on his floor, her eyes wet.

'You lied about Ron.'

'No I didn't.'

'Then it was someone using Polyjuice Potion!' she spoke her thoughts, now staring at him, trying to get him to confirm this.

'I dunno, he seemed quite Weasley-ish.'

'Well but you don't know him, do you! You don't know him at all, so don't go –'

He held out his hand and she took it, immediately letting go, causing herself to fall back on the green carpet again.

'You're an idiot,' he snarled at her, leaving her on the floor and disappearing into his living room.

'If you're planning on making any of that disgusting coffee again, I'm not interested!'

'I wasn't trying to make you feel at home. I still don't know if I can trust you, after been beaten up and jinxed to hideousness by your ugly, jealous boyfriend!'

She stumbled to her feet and ran after him.

'He's not ugly!'

'So you admit he's jealous?'

'What should he be jealous of?'

He rolled his eyes. 'Geez, how about… me spending time with you when he doesn't know what exactly we're doing here?'

'Luckily he won't need much imagination to figure out that we'll probably spend half of our mission screaming accusations at each other and trying to murder each other whenever we can, 'cause it sure as hell won't be anything else!'

'Sure,' he said, sounding uninterested. 'Now, can you fix this or what? You have a dept to pay, Granger.'

'No, Ron has,' she said, drawing her wand and starting to mutter counter curses, 'if he has indeed done this to you.'

'Yeah, just because he's jealous of my handsome face.'

'No offence, but you look like a skinny rat.'

He smirked. 'Liar. I know Legillimency.'

'Oh, learned that from your great master, then?'

'You know I hate him as much as you do,' he said in a soft, slightly challenging way, as if trying to have her say this wasn't true.

'Well at least I didn't follow his ideas until he had me murder my headmaster,' she shot back, finishing a difficult wand movement, and his face started turning back to normal again.

His cheeks flushed bright pink.

'You have no idea, Granger. _No _idea.'

'Sure I don't.'

She stalked off to the kitchen in order to have him (and herself) cool down a little and placed her hands on the kitchen sink.

Why did he have to be so damn annoying? He still had that Death Eater thing in him, obviously.

She started to make coffee and Transfigurated it into something quite better as soon as it was done.

'Coffee,' she snapped; it would have sounded equally insulting if she'd said 'Son of a Death Eater bitch'.

'Thanks,' he sneered back and they stared at each other in total disgust for a few seconds.

She then sat down on his small couch and rubbed her eyes.

'It's not going to work, this way. We should, I don't know, make a plan. Do you know which Death Eaters have survived? Which ones aren't captured yet?

Do you reckon you might find their hiding places?'

He shrugged and she thought she might not want to know his answer.

'I er… That's kinda where I'm gonna be needing your help the most. See, I er sort of… know where the list is with all the wanted Death Eaters, but I erm… You know, my name hasn't been _fully _cleared… and all.'

'I knew you didn't have a plan. I knew you didn't,' she sighed and stared at her palms. 'So where is this list? Does it have their supposed hiding places on it?'

'It's in the Ministry. Minister's office. And hey, how convenient, you happen to know the Minister very well!'

Hermione stood up and, just like last time, pointed a finger at his chest. He seemed less intimidated by her this time.

'Do you think that I can just walk up at Kingsley and say, 'hey, I'd like to know everything about your search for Death Eaters, 'cause my friend and I are going to find them all for you!'? Do you, now? Are you really that stupid?'

'Why did you say 'my friend and I'?' he smirked.

She felt confused, but tried not to let him know.

'Who cares? Just made a little mistake. I'm mad at you, okay?'

'You've been mad at me for over the last seven years, Hermione; can't you give it a rest?'

It somehow seemed to cool her down that he used her first name, and she sat back down again.

'Okay. But I take it you do know _something _the Ministry doesn't? I mean, you'd better have a team of skilled Aurors go look for the Death Eaters than the pair of us, if you're just gonna use the Ministry's information.'

'Well… I do know that the Death Eaters who didn't die at Hogwarts, weren't the brightest one, they were just the cowards. So that makes them not the brightest, either, and without the help of the Dark Lord and his most loyal servants, like aunt Bella, they'll just go into hiding where the Dark Lord ordered them to stay hidden if anything went wrong.

And most likely, they won't even think about the possibility that we're gonna sell them out to the Ministry, me and my dad, who know the hiding place as well.'

'And you're not planning on selling them out to the Ministry; you want to be a hero, don't you?' Hermione asked softly, now getting why he wanted to do this alone. Well, almost alone, that is.

'I want to restore my image.'

'Oh, you're image's been cracked and knocked over and eaten and puked out again too many times to ever be healed again.'

'Yeah, but at least I want to be able to show my _face _in the wizarding world! I don't want to live like an outcast! Don't you get it? This isn't about looking good in the eyes of some horrid little Gryffindors, it's about…' he stopped and sunk deeper into the couch, seeming suddenly broken and vulnerable.

There was a long silence.

'So… Where is this hiding place, then?' Hermione asked after a little while.

'Spain,' he murmured.

'Oh, yeah, that's obvious! 'Cause Voldemort _loved _to get a tan. Now, seriously, where _in Britain _is it?'

'It's nowhere in Britain, you goose! Of course it's abroad; you don't honestly think he'd just shove us all in some deserted barn and tell us to keep quiet? No, he chose a deserted fortress in Spain and protected it with about every single spell he knew.'

'So how are we gonna get in?' Hermione asked, letting out a desperate moan.

Right now, she would rather eat her thumb than tell Ron that she would take a trip to Spain with their most-hated person alive.

'I know the spells. I know the passwords and I know how to break through the protection.'

'What do you need the Ministry list for, anyway? We'll just go in there, Stun the lot and summon the Aurors, and while they're on their way, we'll get some Death Eaters to tell us if there are any more of them left. So how many times have you been there?'

'Oh, just once.'

'And you remembered how to get in? I thought you were moronic!'

'Geez, thanks.'

Long pause.

'Should I bring a bikini?'

'Planning on doing anything naughty?'

'No, I just… thought I'd get a little taste of the sun while being there… You don't mind me bringing Ron, Harry and Ginny, do you? I'm not going to Spain with only you.'

'You still don't trust me?'

'I think that deserves an honest _duh_.'


	7. Let's all kill Malfoy!

**Chapter seven**

_Let's all kill Malfoy!_

'Did you bring your swimming trunks?'

'I don't like to swim.'

'Well you should bring them, anyway.'

'… Whatever.'

'Have you packed enough underwear?'

'Granger! That's like me asking "Do you do Weasley on a daily base?" and you'd be all: "Malfoy, you git!" No personal stuff!'

'Okay. Erm. Sorry. Did you think of bringing some of your famous coffee to intoxicate Death Eaters we could meet at tea time?'

'Very funny. Did you pack Potter?'

'I did, you two are gonna love a holiday together!'

'I still think I should be allowed to bring someone, too.'

'Who?'

Silence.

'How do you girls get so annoying, anyway?'

'How did Crabbe and Goyle succeed in eating without being fed?'

'I'll see you tonight, and stop calling me!'

'I only called you once, asshole! And be glad I did!'

'Oh yeah, it would've been total horror if I'd forgotten my swimming trunks and I would have to buy new ones, golly!'

Hermione hung up the phone with a red hot feeling of anger inside of her.

Ron, emerged from out of nowhere, suddenly placed his hands over her eyes, but let go with a soft moan when she kicked backwards and hit his knees.

She turned around. 'Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else!'

'Oh yeah, intruders at the well-protected Burrow!' Ron breathed in pain.

'Well, it could be,' she defended herself, then looking at his suitcases.

'Oh, you packed! That's so good of you!'

'You didn't expect me to, then?' he asked grumpily.

'Seeing that you've tricked your mother into packing every time you went to Hogwarts and that time you went to Egypt, too, no, I did not,' she said rather dryly.

'Okay, you've got a point there,' he said, racing off to the kitchen to please his stomach once more before they went on holiday.

Molly Weasley was preparing Ron's favourite dish and looked at Hermione with swollen eyes.

'You're gonna look after my boy and girl, you and Harry?' she asked in a rather shaky voice.

'Of course, there's nothing to worry about, not anymore!' Hermione lied convincingly, feeling horrible. 'We're just gonna take a little holiday to, you know, take Harry's mind of things and give us all, including you, some space to breathe. And hey, Britain is not the best place to be in November, it's raining cats and dogs every time you stick your head out of your front door!'

Molly smiled feebly and gave Hermione a little squeeze in the cheek.

'Just bring me a pretty picture of Spain. Never been there,' she said dreamily and gave Hermione a little nudge, gesturing that she needed to finish her cooking now.

Hermione and Ginny had thought of their excuse to get to Spain the day before, and it seemed to work out quite well.

'Hey Mione, make sure you send me a nice _señorita,' _said George, who finally had found his life lust again, somehow.

'I will! Hey, where are you off to, anyway?'

George was sitting at the dinner table cloaked and all dressed up.

He beamed at her.

'I'm gonna visit Fred!'

She gaped at him. 'Wait… You didn't know this before?'

'No-one's seen him, seems he's been plotting things with Peeves for the past few months.'

George looked happier than ever, though Molly's shoulders were trembling.

'It's all right, Mum,' George said, walking over to his shaking mother and swinging one arm around her shoulder. 'He's happy now.'

Ron looked from George to Hermione and back again from above his beef.

'I dun geddit,' he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

'Well it's obvious, of course!' said Hermione, 'Fred came back! He's a ghost at Hogwarts, now.'

Ron gaped at her. 'But then…'

'Yes, we can go and visit him! Not now, however, we'll go when we're back from Spain.'

'But won't he ever get bored of Hogwarts? I mean, he'll be there for centuries…'

'Would you ever get bored of Hogwarts?' George asked, his eyes glistening with tears of joy, and Hermione's eyes started watering, too.

'Not really, no.'

The kitchen door swung open and there stood Harry, looking as though he'd just seen something ugly as sin.

'Look who's here,' he said and stepped aside.

There stood Malfoy, wearing dark blue robes and a bored look on his face.

'How convenient, half the Weasley family. Pleasure, pleasure. Hi.'

Molly looked prepared to hit him over the head with something hard, and Hermione jumped between them.

'Hi, Malfoy! Why don't you stay for dessert, don't say a word and make sure we'll go in peace?'

He shrugged and sat down next to George, throwing him a revolted look.

No-one said a word while receiving taste orgasms from Molly's divine chocolate pie.

'That was heaven, Mum,' George said, giving his mother a kiss and doing a weird little dance before Disapparating happily.

'Well, see you in two weeks!' Hermione said to Molly, and she gave her mother-in-law-to-be a tight hug. 'It'll be all right.'

They'd decided to torture Malfoy a bit more by taking a one-week holiday before they would start looking for Death Eaters.

'Can we go now?'

Malfoy's voice was full of hatred, and Hermione could get why; he hadn't seen his parents in months, with an exception of the Potterfest, where they would least likely be harmed, and was extremely jealous of the emotional goodbyes the family and Harry were exchanging.

Hermione took Malfoy's arm and pulled him out of the house.

'Better if you were not to witness all that, huh?' she asked him with pity.

'What makes you think I'm not able to look at stuff like that? It's not like it's wizard porn…'

'Don't act all tough, Malfoy.'

They'd dropped the habit of calling each other by their first name real quickly, and she added: 'I know you and your family don't spend a lot of time together, but you will, eventually.'

He didn't express any emotion at all, and she decided to just leave it with that.

Trying some Hovering charms, she experimented her time away, as Malfoy gave the ground a hard stare.

Then loud voices came out of the house; Ginny and Molly had somehow managed to get into a row even minutes before Ginny's departing.

'I'M OVER AGE AND I CAN AND WILL LOOK AFTER MYSELF REAL GOOD, GOODBYE, MUM!' Ginny roared in rage, before storming out of the house, looking at Hermione and Malfoy, her hair pressed against her face.

'Don't… look at me… like that,' she panted; clearly she had used a lot of energy breaking some stuff and screaming from the top of her lungs to express her wrath.

'Don't worry, I'd rather not look at you at all, Weasel,' Draco sneered and they stared at each other, Draco rather impassionate and Ginny looking ready to Avada Kedavra him right away.

'No fun place, Azkaban,' Hermione warned Ginny, and she looked up at Ron and Harry, who came running out of the way.

'She's insane,' Ron said in a high-pitched voice, pointing at some point where Molly Weasley ought to be. 'Tried to bind us to our chairs, let's go!'

The Ministry car that Kingsley Shacklebolt had sent them (They had told him they were 'on a very important mission' and he'd just shrugged and sent some orders to escort them) was already waiting for them outside the house and they grabbed their suitcases and bags and cast them into the trunk of the car, before jumping into the back seat quickly.

Draco was in no hurry, however, and he neatly directed his luggage into the trunk with his wand.

'MALFOY, YOU'RE GONNA REGRET YOURSELF FOREVER IF YOU DON'T HURRY UP NOW, YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW DANGEROUS SHE IS!' Ron yelled in agony from out of the car, and as Draco heard a distinct voice call:

'I WILL LOCK YOU UP IN THE BASEMENT IF YOU DO NOT COME RIGHT NOW! I WILL BE VENGEFUL!', he quickly threw Ginny aside in an attempt to get in as quickly as he could. Ginny dived in after him and the car left, just when Molly came sprinting out of the house, carrying rope and a rather dangerous look in her eyes.

'FULL GAS!' Ron ordered the Ministry driver fearfully, but they were already out of Molly's aim (she might have been able to lasso them all right back at her).

Ron sat back, quite relaxed, but seemed to realize only now that Draco was lying in a very odd position; he was stretched horizontally over Ron, Harry and Hermione; his head at Ron's crotch, his body pushed against Harry and his feet were kicking against Hermione. Ginny was on top of Malfoy, her face was pretty much pressed against his and they were in a violent struggle, attempting to poke in each other's eyes.

Hermione quickly blew them apart from each other with her wand, and they flew through the magically enlarged car.

The Ministry driver yelled: 'Would you take it easy? There's Muggle police driving next to us!'

Ginny managed to get onto the passenger's seat, quickly buckled her seatbelt and waved at the policemen, who didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

'Oh, Malfoy, you're LUCKY Hermione saved your ass, I would've loved to strangle you,' she snapped, spreading an air of uncontrolled rage through the car.

Draco didn't look at her, instead he addressed Harry.

'Bet she's a lot of fun in bed,' he said, but Harry wasn't near enough to have a clear shot at his throat, 'cause Hermione pressed him back in his seat and tried to control him.

'Come on, he's just messing with you; don't let him get to you!'

Unfortunately they had chosen to travel the Muggle way; they would travel by train and later on, by bus.

Six hours later (they'd dropped the train part, Ginny would've made a serious effort to push Malfoy in front of one, calling it a suicide attack), the five of them stepped out of the bus, tired, dirty and all covered in bruises.

Ginny had been complaining about Malfoy loudly, all the way down to Spain.

The following actions took place right after her first twenty insults:

Draco tried to rip her clothes apart in order to get a clear aim at her heart, which was very quickly noticed by Harry, who jumped over Ron and a strange lady with pet poodle who had been sitting next to him. He had tried to suffocate Draco with his refuse bag that was hanging next to Draco's chair, but Draco kicked him off of him.

Harry had been thrown back, hanging like a rag doll over Hermione's chair, who had had quite enough, but couldn't perform magic in a bus full of magic.

'ENOUGH!' she had roared, and given them all a speech about responsibility, after which she received an applause from the exhausted but grateful bus; the passengers were finally able to get some sleep, now.

… Of course it had only worked for about five minutes; Draco tried to murder Ron in his sleep and was almost thrown through the window. Hermione had to jump at Ron and stick her tongue in his mouth to keep him where he was.

Now they were all heading for the Muggle hotel they had booked; Ron and Hermione would be sharing a room, as would Harry and Ginny. Draco got a room all for himself, which was received with bitter complaints.

'Why can't I sleep with anyone?' he pouted.

'Because you're disgusting?' Ginny pointed out.

'Good one,' Harry said to his girlfriend proudly.

'Yeah, you spent your entire bus ride insulting me and now all you can manage to say is this? Pathetic. Guess your inspiration drained from you. Of course I didn't expect much more of a Weasel…'

Ron had cast a Silencing charm on him which only lasted about five seconds.

'Good one, big Weasel, your magic skills are really improving, keep it going!'

He'd proudly taken in some more punches before vanishing into his hotel room.

'Go and have a nice time, jerk!' Ron yelled after him. '…ing off,' he added when Draco had slammed the door, but from the keyhole a red light missed Ron by inches.

'Your aim sucks,' Harry told the keyhole, and they all went into their rooms.

Inside, Ron kept pushing the light switch, as Hermione was brushing her hair in an attempt to straighten it a little.

'Would you stop that?' she asked, keeping her voice fondly, as he gave his tenth excited squeak, sounding exactly like his father over a toilet plunger.

'But Hermione, this is _fantastic!_ Look, when you push it, the light just goes – dáng, and then this little red –'

'RON! I'M MUGGLE-BORN, I KNOW, DAMNIT!'

Rather disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm, he stopped violating the switch and got ready to get to bed.

When he had changed into his old, maroon pyjama's, the light flickered, then went out completely.

'Ron! What did I tell you?' Hermione bellowed, but her voice broke as she felt everything turning cold.

'It can't be…' she whispered, but gripped her wand tightly, whispering: 'Lumos.'

She took Ron by the hand and said: 'Let's go to Harry.'

They followed her lit wand to the door, thinking of happy times.

Harry opened the door the second they knocked at it, but before he could close it again, something white and blinding shot past them: Draco had obviously feeling lonely.

Dressed in white pyjama's, he clambered into Harry and Ginny's bed, pulled the blankets up to his chin and closed his eyes.

'Oi! Where do you expect us to sleep?' Harry asked angrily.

'Don't know and I don't care,' was the muffled response, and they all sighed in exhaustion.

'Why did we bring him again?' Ginny asked.

'Because you all fancy me and want to make sweet, sweet love?' Draco suggested, rolling over to his side, quite oblivious to the fact that he was being ignored completely.

'Better yet,' Ron said, 'Why did we even come on this little field trip?'

'HELLO,' Hermione yelled madly, 'I've got a good one! What about: What are Dementors doing around OUR hotel?'

In their little argument they'd somehow forgotten about the vanished lights and sudden cold.

'Now that's one to think about. Gin, why don't we go expecto patronum them to hell?' Harry offered in a tone so gentle he might as well could have asked her to marry him, and the heroes to be left the room.

'I'll watch the corridor,' Ron decided, and when Hermione stood up, he merely raised his hand. 'Stay inside, I've _got _this. I can handle a couple of 'em rotten monsters easily.'

She growled at his stupid view of her needing protection, but sat down on the Draco-less side of the bed, slightly flattered about Ron's concern about her, too.

When Ron had closed the door, Draco made a barely audible sound.

'What?' Hermione asked, falling backwards onto the bed, but she didn't catch his reply, sleeping vastly already.

How long it had been since she'd fallen asleep, she did not know, but Harry, Ginny and Ron had not returned yet, and Draco was holding her hand.

Wait. Rewind. WHAT?!

She stared at her fingers, tangled with Draco's as if they were lovers, and retreated her hand as though she had burned it.

'What the _hell, _Malfoy?' she said confused, her mind a dazzlingly fast spinning colour wheel, dominated by the pale colour of Draco's face and his piercing grey eyes. He stared at her in a way as though he'd never seen a human being before in his entire life.

'I felt like… I should apologize to you,' he said, evidently having trouble getting the words to leave his mouth.

'Yeah, start with apologizing for touching me in this obscene, obscene way!' Hermione answered revolted; he might as well have raped her, same effect.

… He hadn't raped her, had he?

She decided not to ask.

'No, about my behaviour at the Potterfest,' Draco said, now using a non-convincing matter-of-fact tone.

'Well, you acting like a total retard is something I'm used to, this… _touching _me, I'm a Mudblood, in Merlin's name, why do you even look at me? I don't want this! I've never wanted to have conversations with you, anyway!'

And although he'd stopped looking at her (instead, he studied his palms like he'd ever listened to a word professor Trelawney had said and found that his love line had stopped somewhere at the age of five), she added: 'Stop!'

'Whatever, Granger,' he said, now looking slightly troubled at his hand.

'What?' she asked, following his gaze.

'Which one's your life line?'

'Well I don't know, I walked out of Trelawney's class, didn't I?' she replied, the rebel inside her roaring in triumph, 'but I suppose yours could end real soon, seeing that I'm capable of choking you right now.'

'Yeah. Well, about the Potterfest, I was not myself. I'd just seen my parents and I was extremely happy and, well, even you could not dampen my spirits!'

He caught Hermione's stare and didn't need Hermione's:

'That's it, you're going down!' to realize that he was.

She launched herself on top of him and started punching every free inch of him, but was blasted backwards by Harry, who came running into the room.

Lying on the floor, she noticed that the light had indeed returned, and she grinned weakly when Ginny came storming in after Harry, yelling: 'Harry! Why'd you do that, moron? She could've killed him!'

Draco rubbed his sore throat. 'Oh, and that would've been awesome!'

Ron also entered the room and Draco threw him a sour look.

'What? What have I missed?' Ron asked curiously, his eyes shooting left and right into the room, not knowing where to find any damage or fights.

'Your little girlfriend tried to murder me,' Draco said in his usual sneering voice, 'you know, like you tried when you attempted to, how did you put it, Granger, chew my head off?'

Ron's head turned a nasty shade of pink and Hermione stood up at once.

'So it's true, then, Ron?'

He didn't even try to look at her.

'Why?'

'Yeah, why? My features didn't exactly look as stunning as ever, I almost felt like Potter.'

'You were jinxed with that puffy-face thing, too?' Harry asked.

'That, too, but I was just talking about your normal appearance.'

Ginny and Harry gave Malfoy the same foul look, but Draco looked at Ron instead.

'You tried to get it on with Hermione,' Ron answered after what felt like years, and Hermione suddenly felt nauseous.

'That's not true, Ron, you jealous git,' she stammered, 'and why couldn't you have just ASKED it, instead of attacking him? It was quite a bitch to remove those curses.'

She and Draco started staring at him, looking dangerous, and Harry and Ginny turned to Ron, too, just for the effect of it.

'Well if you don't want me to be here, I guess I'll… go?' Ron said insecure, and Hermione noticed that despite everyone's anger, he didn't want to leave her.

'No, Ron, don't go. You're going to stay here and we're going to sleep in separate rooms tonight, and I'll forgive you when dawn comes, 'because Malfoy's a sucker anyway, and tomorrow, I'm going to show you some Muggle-blood!'

'Okay, then…' Ron answered, and Ginny and Draco looked puzzled, not knowing what to expect of Muggle-activities.

'Malfoy, you get back to your room and don't ever attempt to drool on my bed again,' Harry barked, and then to Ron: 'I'll share a room with you, then, mate, and Ginny and Hermione can sleep here.'

They all said rather brisk goodbyes and marched their separate ways. Draco left the bed, pouting slightly.

'Still don't get why I have to sleep alone at night…' he muttered at his departing, and when he strutted into his own hotel room, Ginny made a rude gesture to his back.

'Pussy.'

Hermione giggled and they both took a side in the king size bed.

There was a long, pleasurable silence in which they both grinned mischievously.

'You're gonna get them to dance, aren't you?' Ginny informed, in a failed attempt to keep her laughter in.

'Yep.'

She breathed in happily.

'They'll burn.'


	8. Shake your moneymakah!

_Leetle note;_

Nope, it's _not _Ron/Hermione, I've seen enough of that : D (though I love them in the books, I'm into Dramione now). Thanks for the reviews, vinwinz (:

**Chapter eight**

_Shake your money-makah!_

'Wake up, Draco! Come on baby, get up!'

Hermione used her wand to blow an icy breeze underneath his door and a few seconds later she heard Malfoy yell: 'FUCK, THAT'S COLD! Was that you? Oh, I'll get you, Granger!'

Oh, worth the fun.

She did the same with Harry and Ron and a minute later, three shivering and pissed off boys were standing next to her and Ginny.

'I forgot to ask,' Hermione said, 'what happened to the Dementors?'

'Yeah, how could we all forget, anyway?' Harry asked and scratched the back of his head. 'There were two, and I guess those Death Eaters know we're coming.'

'_We're _coming?' Draco said, his voice as icy as the surprise wind Hermione had sent him.

'Er, yeah, that's _English, _Malfoy,' Ron snapped at Draco, who did his usual act of Ignore the Weasleys.

'No, I mean, you're not going to go into that fortress. I mean, yeah, you all fought Death Eaters and killed off the Dark Lord, blah blah, very impressive, but once you're there…'

'We'll witness horrors we could've never dreamed of?' Harry asked, his eyebrows raised.

'No, you fucktard, every time I make one insult about you or the Weasels,' he began, and quickly added, 'or Granger, you're just gonna shout at me and try to curse me to death. And then, I don't think our presence will be unnoticed, will it?'

He got no response. Instead, Hermione clapped her hands happily, as if their conversation never existed.

'We, young gentlemen, are going to go… SHOPPING!' she exclaimed.

The three boys spluttered in the foresight of the total terror of _shopping._

'With we… you mean you and Gin?' Harry said, swallowing in agony.

'Oh no, you're going to come with us! It'll be fun! Clothes, and shoes, and more clothes, even more shoes! And I promised you I'd show you some Muggle fun, so I'm not going to let you down!'

They looked as if in on the brink of a breakdown.

'No,' Draco corrected unexpectedly, 'you said you'd show us some Muggle blood. So bring it on, Granger, I'd drink it all if that could prevent you from going to Muggle stores and dragging us down with you!'

He paused to let them all have a good laugh, but they merely frowned at him.

'What? Oh, you guys are _so _un-Slytherin.'

Hermione gave a fake cackle and grabbed both Harry and Ron by one arm, determined to let them all go through hell.

'Come on, friends, it'll be so much fun!'

Ginny, in the boys' eyes indoctrinated by Hermione to obey all her orders and malicious plans, nodded blankly and said: 'Yeah, fun, let's go!'

The two hyperactive girls dragged them down to the mall, Hermione greeting everyone with a happy 'Hola! Qué tal?' or 'Buenos días, amigo!' no matter if they were male or female, they recognized them as foreigners anyway.

'Why do you have to do that? What are you saying, anyway?' Malfoy complained. 'You might as well tell them to chop our heads off if they pass us! Or recruit them for your little secret army.'

'Malfoy?' Ginny asked.

'What is it, little Weasel?' said Malfoy, who was, for punishment, being dragged into a rather vulgar ladies' clothes store by Hermione.

'Shut up.'

Draco apparently finally had enough of Ginny and asked:

'Aren't you supposed to be in school, anyway? Seventh year, right? Why are you bugging us here?'

'I decided not to take my seventh year, for reasons like… well, tormenting you, and stuff. I'm not planning on working at the Ministry or anything, anyway,' Ginny answered absent-mindedly, groping around in a rack with T-shirts, pulling one from the stack and using her wand to transport it onto Malfoy, replacing his own shirt (for the occasion, he wore wear Muggle clothes, not to stand out in a crowd).

'WEASEL!' Draco roared, and a plump, Spanish woman looked around at them and started muttering what Hermione knew were insults in Spanish.

'I'm sorry, did you say something?' Ginny asked politely, but smoothly slid behind the rack. 'And isn't that nice!'

Awestruck, Draco managed to read the letters on his new shirt.

'What's that?' he asked extremely nervous, looking at the Spanish word 'Puta', displayed in big, yellow letters on the black T-shirt.

'WHAT IS THAT?' he then bellowed, and two girls with high heels, short skirts, too much make-up, well, you get the idea, walked over to them and gave Draco appreciating smiles. They started rambling in Spanish and Hermione giggled.

'What did they say?' he said, giving her a questioning look, as if trying to read it off her brain.

'Uhm, well, that they think it's very brave to wear that, being a boy, and all.'

They threw some Muggle money onto the counter, and the plump Spanish woman, not visibly wondering how that T-shirt got on the body of a young boy without seeing him change (she didn't look like she often wondered about the miracles of life, anyway), greedily shoved it down her T-shirt.  
Ron looked disgusted.

'Get over yourself, Ron,' Ginny said, still giggling about Malfoy.

When they walked the streets again, the foursome laughing and cheering, and Malfoy shuffling on their right, gloomily, they were often stared at by both tourists and inhabitants of the Spanish town.

Well, actually, it was Malfoy being stared at, and when two men in leather tights put Malfoy to a halt and attempted to stick their tongues in his ear, he punched one of them on the nose and ran back to Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who were all roaring with laughter.

'IT'S NOT FUNNY! WHY DO THEY THINK I'M GAY? WHY?'

'Excuse me, sir,' a man asked in clumsy English, and Draco turned on the spot to look him in the eye.

'_What?'_ he said in a tone that would've frightened many, but the man seemed sort of… turned on.

'I… How much you cost?' the man, looking somewhat like Slughorn; broad, almost whale-like, but unlike Slughorn, licking his lips every three seconds or so.

'How much I _cost_?' Draco whispered, his eyes narrowing, and he seemed to grow by the second.

'I'LL SHOW YOU HOW MUCH I COST, YOU DIRTY GEEZER,' Draco screamed, finally getting the point and covering the man's eager face in saliva.

He already started swinging his arm towards the man's face, but the latter took a run for it, and seeming to shake the street with every step, he disappeared from their sight.

Draco turned to face Ginny, his face twisted with anger.

'Puta means whore, doesn't it?' he breathed into her face, but she didn't move a muscle.

Then she burst into laughter once again and hiccoughed: 'I didn't even know that, just, all the sluts in that store bought it, I –' but Draco's face seemed to shut her up, for once.

Draco then made eye-contact with Hermione, whose tears were swimming with tears of laughter, clutching to Ron, and she confirmed it with a single nod, before laughing at him again.

'IT'S NOT FUNNY!' Draco shrieked, taking off the shirt at once, now standing in his bare chest. Hermione glimpsed from over Ron's shoulder, realizing his T-shirt was gone, and her mouth fell open.

'What?' Draco barked, and she quickly closed it.

'You should get a tan,' she said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and she quickly pierced the street with her look.

A couple of hours later, they were all in a Muggle restaurant, Hermione and Ginny with a couple of bags from clothing stores. Ron was massaging his feet; Harry seemed to sleep above his ice tea. Draco simply stared at a point in the distance until a scared blonde waitress came taking their orders.

Draco ordered about the whole cart (Harry had insisted that he would pay for everyone's dinner), making the waitress stare at his rather small body, wondering where all that food would go.

'Did you, er, actually realize what you just ordered?' Hermione asked him.

'What does it matter? I'm hungry and I want Potter broke.'

'Yeah, well, you took the specialities; let's see… you ordered slugs, bull's balls – they love that over here -, re –'

'OKAY, OKAY, I get the point! Why do you know Spanish so well, anyway?' Draco snapped at her, and she sat back in her seat, relaxed as can be.

'I'm a genius, Malfoy; I know most of all European languages. And before I went to Hogwarts, I was always so bored at school, had nothing to do…'

'Oh, that troubled me, too,' Harry said dryly.

Ginny leaned forward to Hermione and whispered in her ear: 'What did he really order?'

'Oh, the usual. French fries, beef, steak… He ordered a lot, though, but I don't believe he's actually gonna eat it,' she said, a now often appearing mischievous grin spreading across her face.

'You're evil,' Ginny muttered.

'I know!'

After Malfoy had dragged them all from the restaurant, convinced that the French fries would try and eat his brain and Harry barely had time to pay for their food, they went back to the hotel.

'Go and change, honeys, we'll pick you up in two seconds!' Hermione ordered Draco, Harry and Ginny, and she pulled Ron into the hotel room, then hugging him tightly.

'Isn't this wonderful?'

He gaped at her. 'Where are we going?'

His voice sounded high-pitched and she smiled with her tongue in her cheek.

'To the discotheque, where else?'

Ron stifled a little moan.

'Do you _really _want to kill us all, Mione?'

She took off her summery white dress and changed it for a slightly shorter, black one and started rubbing body lotion on places that needed some glow.

'Look… looking good, Mione,' Ron said, his voice sounding strange.

She sighed; this was the ten thousandth time he acted like this.

Not that she'd gotten naked in front of him ten thousand times, she wasn't _that _much of a whore. She was slightly worried about the fact that the whole drooling-over-naked-body thing wasn't mutual.

She fell in love with Ron, yes, but he didn't really attract her when he took his clothes off.

Maybe that would come later; right now she only felt that strong physical attraction to… No. She did not. Her mind was being led off its usual path by her evilness today, and therefore she saw his face even when he wasn't there.

The only explanation would be that they were both evil. Yes, sir. And now she was going to take her boyfriend to a disco, send Malfoy off to some horny Muggle slut, and get this weird thing over with.

… Although thinking of Malfoy with a horny Muggle slut felt like punching a hole into her stomach.

'You look dashing, Hermione!' Harry said brightly, wearing quite hideous Muggle clothing himself; he'd never really mastered dressing like a Muggle (or a wizard) and Ginny was never able to force him into anything nice; unfortunately, he liked his clothes.

'Thanks, Harry, you look good,' she said, receiving a nasty glance from Ginny, who whispered: 'What are you doing? You're just encouraging him!'

Draco got out of his hotel room, wearing jeans (tight) and a black blouse.

Glancing over at Ron and finding he was having trouble locking the door, she took her time to give him a respectable stare, before picking up her good ol' happy act, cheering:

'Let's hit the floor!'

She got a non-enthusiastic response from the three boys, but Ginny, dressed in a sweet little green dress, held pace with Hermione while they walked out of the hotel in friendly chattering.

'Can't we just give the buffet one chance?' Ron asked desperately, trying to accio the food with his eyes, not succeeding, however.

'Can't you just stop thinking about food for one minute?' Ginny snapped; she'd lived for over sixteen years with Ron at her side, yearning for food.

'Sure, I can do that!' Ron said defensively, and he was quiet for about one minute, undoubtedly focussing his mind at food and food only, before saying:

'Those whatever dogs looked kind of tasty to me, how about we grab one on the way to your… disco, Hermione?'

'They're called hot dogs, and you're not eating anything, you animal, we just had dinner!'

'It's true you _did _eat all of our pie…' mumbled Harry, looking as if he was wondering whether or not he should have said that.

'Well YOU didn't eat anything and otherwise they would've just thrown it AWAY! How would YOU feel if YOU would just been thrown in the garbage, together with 'em SLUGS and pieces of MEAT?'

Ginny hit him hard on the back of his head, sighing:

'Not the what if _you _were food-attack again, Ron, WE'RE HUMAN, for Merlin's sake!'

Fortunately, they had just arrived at the club Hermione had read about in a flyer some guy had given her (Ron had accused her that wherever she was, she just needed to feed her intellect with anything she could lay her claws on, and he actually got it right; she'd studied the name, address and name of the DJ and surprised nobody by summing them all up at dinner).

There was a long queue of excited Muggles pressing people against the wall of the night club and Draco moaned.

'I bet we can give our friend Imperius his best shot at that bloke at the door. I mean, if we _have _to go there, we'd better get in quick and leave as soon as possible.'

'So that's how you do it, Malfoy…' Harry muttered, but before Draco could cover his face in bruises, Hermione interrupted:

'Well, too bad for you, Imperius is illegal and it might look a little suspicious in the eyes of those Muggles, so we're just going to wait until we get in, all right?'

He gave her a dog-like look and went to stand at the back of the line.

'Cool, if you all wait here, I can go and get one of them, anyway!' Ron cheered jubilant, pointing at the hot dog stand a couple of yards away.

They pulled him back by his shirt and grumpily Ron followed them inside, some twenty minutes later.

'Can't you just be... I don't know, happy, Weasel?' Draco asked, which was a rather weird thing to say for someone like him, least happy person in the world.

The night club was crammed with people and girls dancing in cages, and Draco, looking quite Mugglish, was immediately being sandwiched by two whorish girls with far too much make-up, and he mimed: 'Help me!' to Harry, who gave Draco a girlish wave and started dancing with Ginny (that is, he was rocking his body backwards and forwards like a child that had just learned how to stand on his two feet, and waved his arms in the air like he'd seen Luna do once).

Ron went straight for the bar and his mood seemed to brighten up big time when he discovered macadamia nuts.

He beamed at Hermione, whom he had pulled with him and started poking her in the arm.

'You never told me they had macadamia nuts! I _love _macadamia nuts! Want some maca –'

'Ron. I just ate.'

It was Potterfest all over again; Ron ate and drank happily, and Hermione sat at his side, staring into the crowd.

'I'm going to dance,' she told her boyfriend, feasting on the nuts.

'Go ahead, I'll er – watch you?'

She marched off and in his ignorance of his lack of tact; he just continued stuffing his mouth.

Hermione danced with two Muggle boys, both brown-haired and good-looking, and had quite a nice time, until she had to go to the ladies' room (Ginny always called it the little girl's room and Harry would start making dirty remarks on that, and now Hermione just prevented her from saying it, Silencing her whenever she was around and Ginny had to go to the bathroom).

She had merely opened the door, when something pushed her inside, causing her to lose balance and fall on the cold, marble ground, landing on top of her.

The something was Malfoy and she, along with the two other girls, covering their lashes in mascara, shrieked at him until he got on his feet.

'Malfoy, what the hell!' she said for the gazillionth time.

'Rescue… me…' he panted, his hands on his knees and his face bright pink.

'What the hell,' she repeated more calmly, and he gazed at her in fear.

'They're… they're after me…'

'Who?'

'Well, those two scary Muggles, of course! Help me! They kept trying to… to hump me… and…' he pointed at his blouse, now ripped open, 'they're monsters!'

She couldn't help but smiling a little and then pushed him out of the door.

'You're freaking everyone out. Let's get you to Ron, he'll protect you,' she giggled, but immediately saw what he meant.

The two girls, looking blood-thirsty and eager for some of his flesh, stood in front of them, licking their lips and smoothly drawing nearer.

'Try one thing on my boyfriend and I shall kill,' Hermione said in a cool voice, clawing her hands and grunting in a low voice to get the right effect.

'You boy… friend?' they asked, blinking in stupidity, and they took off, uninterested.

Draco sighed in relief.

'Thanks, Hermi … Granger,' he said, before briskly heading to Ron, to go and insult him.

Hermione was held back by a handsome but pushy stranger, and she felt the urge to draw her wand, but instead, bumped her hips against his with such force that he fell into the outstretched arms of a tall blond man, who gave the guy the same hungry look that the two Muggle girls had worn just before that.

Eventually, she did make her way back to the bar, where Ron gave her an approving look, and he kneeled before her.

'Erm, let's not play knight and princess here, okay?' Hermione muttered and Draco looked bewildered and slightly frightened, hiding behind a big woman that had been sitting next to him.

'Hermione…' Ron said, and she stared at him.

'Yes...?'

'YOU SEE THAT, MALFOY? THAT'S A SIGN!' Ron called over his shoulder, and he turned back to Hermione, his eyes glinting.

'Ron, what –'

'Will you marry me?'


	9. All Malfoy's fault

**Chapter nine**

_All Malfoy's fault_

There was a small pause when Hermione stood looking at him in agony, then she immediately turned to look at Malfoy instead.

'What did you do to him?' she asked, a cold shiver running down her spine and a longing for murder spread all over her face.

'I did nothing, _he_ just proposed to you, didn't he?' he answered, looking amused, and Ron said:

'Yeah, Hermione, he did nothing, I just… I've been thinking about it all night, and… We shouldn't waste time!'

'Yes, we should! I'm… YOU CONFUNDED HIM, DIDN'T YOU?' she shouted at Malfoy, who slid behind the back of the woman fully now.

'I did no such thing!' he said, 'honestly!'

Although Hermione's honestly was probably far from Draco's honestly, she started to believe him, but changed her mind when he smirked.

She drew her wand, holding it low not to attract any attention, but sort of failed when she aimed at Malfoy, firing a non-verbal jinx and was thrown sidewards by Harry. It all happened at once; her spell instead went for Ron, who held up his own wand, yelling: 'Protego!', but his charm was not strong enough to fully block hers, and was therefore thrown over the bar, breaking glass and causing the whole club to go silent and look at him.

A Dutch man whom Hermione had danced with earlier yelled: 'VECHTEN!', and Hermione took this as: 'Fight!'

More people started chanting, and Hermione moaned, blinking to the smoke she had caused, and then ran to Ron to see if he was okay.

Well, naturally, he wasn't; all the skin was ripped from his face, and his clothes were torn apart.

'Ron, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry,' she cried, while the bartender hoisted Ron up, and Ginny came crashing forwards, pulling Ron off the bar and dragging him outside in her arms.

Harry shouted: 'He's gonna be all right!' and people turned around, starting to dance and drink or make out again.

Malfoy was shaking behind the big woman, who looked thoroughly shocked, and Harry turned to Hermione.

'What the FUCK did you do?' he yelled, but she burst into tears and raced after Ginny, who'd already made her way through the crowd.

Seeing merely a blur of moving people, she once crashed into a cage with a pole dancing woman in it, but finally found the way outside, and stared at Ron, hanging like a puppet in Ginny's arms.

'Hermione, what -?' the latter said in confusion, but Hermione could not speak.

'I'm taking him to St. Mungo's,' Ginny decided, Disapparating with her unconscious brother clutched in her arms.

Harry and Draco ran outside shortly after she had left, staring at Hermione, who now no longer cared who could see her swollen eyes and her face covered with tears.

'I'm so… so sorry,' she kept repeating, and Harry hugged her.

'I know you didn't mean to do it… I mean, you're not the first one to use magic in front of Muggles…'

He stroked her hair, trying to comfort her, but she kept shaking and muttering:

'I lost… I lost it… he… I'm so sorry…'

He pushed her down on a park bench and glared at Malfoy.

'When Ron wakes up, he's not gonna take this lightly. Gin and I will try to calm him down, but I don't think he's ready to see Hermione, yet. Are you going to – to finish this thing?' he said, looking as unable to think rationally as Hermione, but still trying to make sense of things.

'O- Okay,' she stammered.

'He's in St. Mungo's, isn't he?' Harry asked, and she nodded, before he, too, turned on the spot and left them.

Draco patted her on the back and she jumped at his touch.

'You…' she shrieked. 'YOU!'

For the second time in two days, she started punching him wherever there was space, and all of her anger came out at once.

Screaming insults and spells that didn't work out because she didn't hold her wand, she punched him a black eye and he yelled in pain.

'Stay away from me!' he yelled, obviously losing all his trust in the female race after being both verbally and virtually attacked in one evening.

He blew her away with his wand and she ended up lying like a crumbled heap of limbs and hair and tears on the street.

Draco seemed to pity her, because he placed one hand beneath her legs and one on her back and lifted her up. She just cried.

'Let's get you back to the hotel, Granger,' he sighed, taking her to a Muggle-free place (Ginny and Harry hadn't cared that people saw them disappear into thin air) before Disapparating with her. Her breath was momentarily taken and she felt even worse when they'd Apparated in front of the hotel.

Draco had a short conversation with the man behind the hotel counter about the elevators being out of service, and, eyes closed, she realized he was carrying her all the way up the stairs. Suddenly revolted by her weak behaviour, she freed herself from his arms, falling on the floor, but stumbling up again.

'I'm okay,' she told him, walking to her room in blind desperation, running the electronically working card through the gap and slamming the door shut behind her.

When she'd arrived in her room, she fell onto her bed, face forward, crying for several hours until she finally fell asleep.

'Granger, wake up, we'll miss breakfast and then we'll have to wait for lunch and there's no scrambled eggs there and I don't like 'em boiled…'

If the voice rambling to her hadn't started his first sentence with 'Granger', she would've thought Ron was sitting next to her, chatting about food without caring if anyone else was interested.

Instead, this was most definitely Draco Malfoy and she opened an eye to check if he or she was naked (hey, you never knew).

To her great delight, he was fully dressed and, hey, so was she.

The past evening hit her like a bomb.

'Where's Ron? Is he all right?' she asked in horror, and he yawned.

'Good morning, Granger!'

'How'd you get in my room?' she then said, realizing he probably had no clue whatsoever about Ron's condition.

'I'm a wizard. Come on, get up, get dressed! I picked a lovely little outfit for you.'

She opened both her eyes now.

'You checked out my clothes?'

'I don't do clothes, in case you were wondering. I'm straight as can be. Anyway, I'll wait outside.'

She didn't approve of this new, sort of happy Draco, and depressed, she stared at the clothes he'd picked out for her.

'Draco?' she yelled to the door, immediately correcting herself.

'Er, Malfoy? This is just underwear.'

'That's the idea,' came his voice from the hallway, and she sighed.

_Could've figured that out myself._

She slowly allowed the pictures of her cursing Ron, Ron's face afterwards, Draco picking her up and bringing her back to the hotel to fill up her mind, and bit her lip to fight the tears.

Why wasn't she mad with Draco, anyway?

Well, of course he'd done something to Ron… Or had he?

Ron _could _be quite the impulsive type. Oh no. What if this had been all for nothing? 'Course, it had been all for nothing; she jinxed the wrong man. What would have happened if her spell had hit Draco?

… God, that would've been wonderful.

Or would it?

Dressed in mourner's clothes (black heels, black skirt, admitted, that was rather kinky, not quite fit to visit a funeral, black top, black coat although it was really hot outside) and wearing a grave expression, she left her room and stared into Draco's happy face.

'Hi,' she said. 'We need to get to St. Mungo's.'

'Noooooooo!' he answered and he reminded her of people in Muggle movies, where someone else would fall off a cliff and the one left behind would scream at them rather than check if they weren't hanging by some branch that stuck out of the middle of nowhere, which they did most of the time.

'No,' he said again, 'we need to get to breakfast! And after that, I'm going zu show you ze fortress,' he then continued in a French accent and she gave him a weird frown.

'Just thought that would cheer you up…'

When they both took a seat, shoving their loaded trays on to a table in the restaurant, Hermione said: 'Erm, are you… feeling guilty about something?'

He shook his head and attacked his scrambled eggs. He really did fancy those.

She took a bite out of a sausage, but felt like she would puke if she ate any more, so she just stared from her food to Draco and back. Finally, he caught her glance and stopped eating.

'Oh, you want me to have that?' he asked, stealing her tray in one, smooth movement.

'Er…' she answered. She wanted a lot of things, but wasn't really sure which ones.

'Hey,' he said, swallowing his food, 'Wanna hear a Death Eater joke?'

Before she could say anything, he cleared his throat, giggled at the foresight of the clue and said:

'You know the worst of all mice?'

'Euh.'

'COMPROMISE!'

He roared with laughter, clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping the tears out of his eyes with the other, while Hermione just glared at him.

'That doesn't make sense. Who made that up, anyway?'

A little offended, he said: 'Yaxley. You know, we were patrolling at Potter's aunt and uncle's house and he was making up those kind of… and I thought they were…'

He just turned to his eggs again.

'You know,' Hermione said, after a long, long pause, 'if you hadn't Confunded Ron, I wouldn't have to listen to your stupid jokes, right now.'

'THEY'RE NOT STUPID!' he bellowed, then dropped his voice and said: 'I didn't Confund him.'

'Yes, you did.'

'No, I didn't.'

'Yes, you did!'

'No, I DIDN'T!'

'YES, Y – '

'No, I didn't! But hey, if it makes you feel any better, go ahead and blame it all on Malfoy! Just… Don't start punching me again; it took at least two healing spells to get that black eye away.'

'Well, feel glad I didn't curse you into St. Mungo's, as well!'

Thinking of that bad, bad memory she stared at him in enmity.

'I can't help him asking you to _marry _him, I mean, it's not like I want that to happen anyway.'

She looked straight into his eyes and he tried his hardest to avoid her gaze.

'That is; I do not want any more Weasels running around on this planet, it's been hard enough staying funny and focused on the subject with two of them around me, do you have any idea how hard it is to keep making these funny remarks on their hair?'

'You're not funny.'

'Oh. Well, er, shall we… go… then?'

'Sure.'

A little stiffly, they walked out of the hotel once more and Draco took Hermione's hand (which felt like being set on fire) to have her Disapparate with him.

They were standing in a large meadow, surrounded by some twenty cows.

'Do you think they're Death Eaters?' Hermione whispered.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ground.

'No, er, we're kinda… in the wrong place.'

She sighed and took his hand again.

'It's been a while, okay?' he said in defence, before dragging her into darkness again.

This time, they had landed in a small lawn, in front of a cute little house, though looking slightly aged; the paint was starting to peel off.

There was a small barn that resembled the Shrieking Shack and she frowned.

'Are you sure we didn't just land at the other side of the meadow?'

'Nope,' he said, waving towards the woods that were lying way higher, 'it's over there.'

They both drew their wands when Draco said:

'I didn't finish my breakfast. I'm hungry.'

'If you're taking me back to eat any more, I'm forcing you to get a manicure with me,' she answered quickly, giving him a challenging smirk.

'Yeah, like you know any nail shops in Spain,' he snorted.

'Was that a yes?'

'It's… well… I guess?' he said, now looking slightly endangered.

She firmly grasped his hand again, smiled and turned on the spot.

'HEY!' he said as soon as his eyes had sort of acclimatised to the light.

'What?' she asked sweetly.

He looked at the nail shop in front of them in defeat.

'Okay, but first, I'm gonna get some FOOD!'

To her great revulsion and shame, she had quite a fun time with Malfoy. She forced herself to think about Ron every five minutes, but looking at Draco, shrieking at a firm, tall Spanish woman who forced him into a chair, looking at his nails in eagerness was enough to keep her from sinking into a depression.

She sat watching him, while the gayest man she'd ever met, wearing tight leather pants and wriggling his ass at Malfoy at any opportunity he got, painted her nails pink.

In Spanish, he asked her if her male friend spoke Spanish, too, but she shook her head and told the man that Draco however did desire the same colour nail polish as she got.

This resulted into Draco chasing the shop employee with a nail file and threatening to stab her to death (believe me, she got the message) if she turned another nail pink ever again.

'Why won't this come OFF?' Draco growled, again trying to scrape off his nail polish, while Hermione kept pointing her wand at him under her coat, Transfigurating his nail the same shade of pink over and over again.

It was getting dark, now (Hermione had also fancied a pedicure and Draco had been tied to his chair by the hungry gay, his feet turned into soft cushions with shimmering nails), and they both agreed that it would be safer to get to the fortress at night, anyway.

Therefore, they took another leap through the country and ended up next to the barn (actually, they just barely missed it, Draco sort of sucked at Apparition at times).

'Okay… Here we go!' Draco said brightly, and Hermione followed him.

They walked for about half an hour and she only twice attempted to kill him for almost killing off her boyfriend.

She had to admit, though, Draco had actually succeeded into cheering her up; she was sure Ron would be okay and he'd acted really weird anyway, so actually there was no need to worry about him anymore.

She fingered her wand beneath her cloak and saw Draco looking nervous and clutching his wand, too.

They stood staring at the woods in front of them, maybe a three quarters of an hour's walk, swallowing at what might happen to them, in there.

Hermione didn't really fancy the foresight of being dragged into danger without Harry and Ron at her side; Malfoy was not exactly the most gifted wizard, though he knew how to use the Killing Curse, apparently.

'We actually have no idea what we're doing here, have we?' she asked.

'Well, all that crosses my mind is TAKE THEM DOWN, so I guess that's our plan?'

'Sure. That'll work. They'd better be in there, you know.'


	10. Oh, they're in there

**Chapter ten**

_Oh, they're in there_

'Given their level of stupidity,' Draco said, hatred dripping from his voice, 'they will.'

This was probably the moment that she'd been waiting for; she still hadn't trusted him fully up until this moment. She now knew that it was as much his desire as hers to really catch those bastards, but secretly, she hoped that they would be stopped before they could actually get to this, so that they could just warn the Order, still active in catching Death Eaters, and the Ministry, to get them instead.

She still had no clue why Draco had been all mysterious about the list of Death Eaters that the Ministry had; perhaps he'd been looking for a little tension and thrill.

_Well, _she thought bitterly, _he can eat his heart out, here._

They had reached the woods, not even considering Apparition for one second; both because there might be curses to detect Apparition, and because they were unprepared and not aware of what they were really doing.

But the last thing Hermione had gone along with impulsive decisions, Harry had defeated Voldemort, so that was a good thing, right?

At the slightest sound, she drew her wand from her coat in such a fast movement that it shot golden sparks around.

'Wow, good one to get us noticed,' Draco said, 'thanks!'

She sighed.

Trying to make as little sound as possible, they wandered on, through the dark forest where every twig snapping was like a tree falling.

The sun had now disappeared completely behind the horizon, but even if it hadn't, it did not matter; the trees were planted together so closely that there were no rays of sun shining into the forest. Hermione got the urge to walk a little closer to Draco.

Not that he was able to protect her; she'd probably be the one doing the important stuff, otherwise he wouldn't have brought her.

'Are we there yet?' she breathed, and he made a whisper as soft as she had, saying:

'Look in front of you, idiot.'

She did, catching herself on the fact that she'd been looking at him for the previous minute or so.

There was, as Draco had said, a huge fortress standing in front of them, black and dominating the scene; the air even felt cooler here.

'So, what do we do now?' Draco said, and she raised her eyebrows.

'Oh, right, I'm in control,' he muttered, walking forward and bouncing back like being held back by some invisible shield.

Hermione, taking his previous comment quite the wrong way, was giggling softly when she noticed it.

'Hmm… Hey, I recognize that, those enchantments were put around the safe houses from the Order, last year. You know, when your former buddies killed off Mad-Eye Moody.'

She couldn't help feeling a little resentment, then started muttering counter curses she'd once read in a spell book from the library when she had been in a fight with Ron. One amongst many…

'Whatchoo doin'?' Draco asked in a horrible accent, perhaps Scandinavian or something, and she wondered what it was with him doing accents these days.

'Er, granting us access, duh?' she spat.

'Oh, good one, I so could've done that…'

At once, she stopped waving her wand around and took a step back.

'Try it, then…'

He waved his wand in a silly movement and took a step forwards, breaking through the invisible shield with a look of triumph on his face.

'It worked!' he shrieked, and at once dropped his voice to below zero decibels.

'Erm, I mean… _it worked,_' he whispered in a spooky tone.

'I already did that, moron,' Hermione said, pushing him forward and following him feeling highly uncomfortable and unsure about what was going to happen next.

'I knew that. I was just… you know…'

'Faking you were boasting around?'

They fell silent when a window that had been as dark as the rest of the giant building was suddenly illuminated, no doubt by a human. Hermione looked at it and wondered how many of the Death Eaters were in there.

'Oh, holy spirits. They really are in there.'

'Can I hear a captain obvious here?' Draco asked in slight annoyance.

They walked up to the fortress, the entrance to which was given by a large drawbridge. They slowly set foot on it, but the bridge in front of it collapsed under their feet as they had even taken one step.

Hermione had been prepared for this; silencing the screaming Draco, she cast a Wingardium Leviosa spell to keep them up in the air.

'Jump,' she told Draco and she aimed for the ground in front of the fortress.

'They probably know there are intruders, so…'

She hid Draco by using a camouflage spell and used a Disillusionment spell on herself. She felt strangely excited, now.

'You're good,' a barely visible Draco mouthed, and she got the message, smiling.

'Whatever. Keep going and _keep quiet_.'

More windows showed lit rooms, now, and Hermione's stomach wrenched unpleasantly.

Staring at the big, wooden front door, she wondered if there were any anti-impostor spells on that, too.

'Alohomora!' she whispered, but as expected, it had no effect whatsoever.

'You do something, smart-ass, you said you knew the protection!'

She tried to poke Malfoy in the eye, but realized that he couldn't really do any spells, except for non-verbal ones, 'cause she had Silenced him.

His look confirmed this.

'I saved your ass doing that!' she said, her cheeks flushing a bit. Okay, so it was stupid. They knew they were trying to get in, anyway, but they didn't know that it was Malfoy.

Yet.

'Right,' Draco said when the Silencing Charm had worn off and they had stood in the cold for a little while, barely audible except for their irregular breathing.

'What's next?'

'Er, you had to solve this riddle or something,' he frowned, 'but – oh, yes, wait.'

He waved his wand, using quite complex moves, and Hermione watched, wondering he was just trying to show off or actually doing something useful.

The answer was the latter, because after he'd finished his silent incantations, a high, cold voice that sounded so loud that it was probably just to be heard inside their heads, said:

'Where do you, my follower, bear your mark?'

Hermione gave Draco a dry look. That was no riddle, that was just a question.

She thought: _On my wrist, my Lord, _followed by: _Ha-ha, you're dead._

Apparently they had both given right answers, because the door swung open and Draco and Hermione jumped forwards, wands at the ready, looking around, as if expecting to be ambushed by Death Eaters any moment now.

They were in a large entrance hall, with big, marble stairs spiralling upwards and unicorn heads attached like trophies to the wall. Hermione retched.

Their footsteps were loud and she bit her lip, trying to convince herself they hadn't been heard. She didn't look forward to a confrontation at all, but in Malfoy's eyes, excitement was displayed. Oh, please.

She looked around, and saw three closed doors on either side of the hall. There was nearly no furniture; only two fragile-looking tables who stood unstable under the weight of the big collection of china on top of them.

'Shut _up, _I think I heard something,' they heard a raw voice say, and Malfoy mouthed his name, but Hermione didn't catch it; she held her breath and stared up at the ceiling.

'Care to take a look?'

The raw voice laughed a bitter laugh. 'Rather you than me, if you didn't notice; I'm taking a bath.'

Hermione and Draco heard footsteps on the staircase and looked at each other, breathing heavily; their wands seemed to float in mid-air, they would become visible immediately.

As a long, pale man that Hermione did not recognize but Malfoy clearly did, emerged from the top of the stairs, he stared straight through them, his brows shooting upwards. He paid Draco a full stare, and Draco was stupid enough to take a step backwards. Hermione held her breath now, her mouth open.

'Is…?' the man said in confusion, and he added: '_Homenum revelio_!'

Malfoy looked puzzled, but Hermione, recognizing both the spell and the weird feeling, couldn't help muttering: 'Fuck!'

She Stunned the Death Eater and took Malfoy by the wrist. As she'd expected, they weren't able to Apparate. She only made things worse; loud alarm bells were sounding, not unlike the sound they'd heard in Hogsmeade last year, and she mimed: 'Run!'

Draco was very happy to take this advice, and together, they ran straight back through the door and again, floated over the bridge, which had rebuilt itself, but broke in two halves just as easily as they set foot on it again.

Their passing through the woods wasn't quite as silent as it had been the last time; they heard footsteps of many echoing behind them, and oblivious to the fact that they were holding hands the entire time, panting, fearing death; they finally took cover behind a tree.

'Can't… breathe…' Hermione choked, but she was able to control herself after half a minute or something.

'Who's there? SHOW YOURSELF, you filthy blood-traitors! Who are you?' someone called out, his voice low and threatening.

'Count to three, then start running,' Hermione whispered in Draco's ear, finally releasing his hand and lifting her wand. He whispered: 'One… two…'

His 'three' was never heard by her, she started screaming jinxes and shot them at the at least five hooded figures that followed them through the woods.

A Stunning spell missed her by inches. Only, it wasn't coming from any of the Death Eaters; Draco had Stunned one of them.

'Thanks!' she yelled, then crying: 'REDUCTO!' at two of the surrounding trees;

they crashed with unimaginable noise, crushing one of the Death Eaters.

Hermione swallowed but couldn't care right now. She yelled:

'Protego!' and when her shield hung between her and her attackers, she started running again, nearly tripping over fallen branches and a fox that came racing past them.

'Come on,' she heard Draco, keeping up pace right beside her, when they had both noticed her losing speed.

'S- sorry,' she panted, but finding new strength as they had reached the end of the wood. It had felt like hours and she let out a relieved sigh when she saw the unstable forest ground slowly changing into solid ground, and she headed straight for the barn.

'Isn't that where they'll look first?' Draco puffed, but she shook her head, not knowing and not caring whether he saw this or not.

'They'll think we either Apparate or had buddies with us; then they'll think we might've used a Portkey. They'll never expect us to be as stupid as to stay here.'

'Then why are we?'

'Because I don't know where to go,' she admitted, using _'Alohomora'_ on the locked door of the shack, pushing Draco inside, before following herself and locking it carefully again.

She didn't care about light and immediately took Draco's wand from him when he said '_Lumos_', whispering: '_Nox_, idiot!'

Draco pouted a little, but she took no notice of it; she saw a little gap between two boards of the wooden shanty.

She peered through it and felt Draco's breathing in her neck, watching over her shoulder, and for a moment, she had no idea where she was or what she was doing. Shaking her head (and hitting Draco's, who quickly drew back his own a little and went to stand next to her, instead) to get back her brain, she saw dark figures appear from out of the woods.

'WHERE DID THEY GO?' someone bellowed in outrage, and another one, shrugging in oblivion, answered:

'How should I know? They clearly Apparated right before we got here, I even thought I heard the _pop_!'

Chuckling softly, Hermione continued to watch.

'We should check the farm, anyway. See if them farmers know anything.'

'They don't speak English, worm,' the other one said, as others came running after them, panting and rubbing their foreheads.

'They won't need to.'

Hermione looked at Draco and pointed her wand through the gap.

'What are you doing?' he asked.

'Using imperius, of course! I can't have them torture those poor Spanish people; they won't have answers and they'll get killed.'

'Good plan,' he said, drawing his own wand again and sticking it out next to Hermione's.

Hermione aimed at the bigger of the two Death Eaters, murmured: _'Imperio!' _and noticed his shoulders lowering a little. Draco took the smaller one.

'So we get to the farm?' a third Death Eater, now finally having his breath back, asked, and Hermione thought his voice sounded familiar.

'No,' Hermione's cursed Death Eater answered. 'No, I don't think they'll know anything. They were asleep all the time, I suppose. I don't think our visitors made much noise.'

'And what about you?' the third man asked in confusion.

He probably looked forward to some good old Muggle tormenting.

'I agree, they'll be nowhere to be found anyway, they could be anywhere by now! Let's get back to the headquarters and summon the others; they need to know they are not safe.'

There were some voices grunting in agreement.

Turning on the spot, the Death Eaters probably Disapparated to the front of the fortress, not planning on walking the entire way back as Draco and Hermione had done.

'Oh, that was close,' Hermione said, her wand shaking in her hand, and she withdrew it from the space she'd been watching through, mopping the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her wand, feeling genuinely relieved.

'You can say that about it,' Draco said, finally lighting his wand. 'Death Eaters _suck_.'


	11. Sins and skins

_Note;_

Yay, Dramione! I looked forward to writing this, it was a lot of fun doing so xD

**Chapter eleven**

_Sins and skins_

Hermione also said: '_Lumos_', and, her wand still ready for battle, she started to walk through the little barn.

'So, we're staying here?' Draco asked from behind her, and she stopped.

'I think so, there may be Death Eaters still trying to interrogate the people living in that house, we cannot let them do that!'

'They're just Muggles,' Malfoy said under his breath, and luckily for him, Hermione did not hear him.

She looked around the shabby little place, seeing that there were several piles of square-formed, pressed-together pieces of hay.

Between some of the piles, there was a platform of hay; a space large enough for the two of them to lie upon. If they would hear any sounds, they could easily watch the environment from that place.

There was not much beside hay in the place; merely a Muggle machine to work the land which Draco thought was a torturing instrument.

Feeling childish and excited in the soothing of the Death Eaters being gone, Hermione dove into the hay.

'Hey,' she said to Draco, still in a low voice, but no longer worried of being overheard, and she spread her arms and legs as if she were trying to make an angel in the snow, 'if you want to get some rest, it's actually quite soft here!'

She changed her position. 'Despite the fact that hay has a way of poking into every ho – Hum. Yeah.'

'Okay,' Draco said, who had dimmed the light of his wand and was now sort of clueless, 'here I come!'

He gave her a little Ginny-flashback by jumping right on top of her, and unlike Ginny, he was heavy.

Feeling his every muscle, she didn't even attempt to throw him off; he was probably much stronger, and, well, it wasn't like he gave her unpleasant feelings.

_Well, he should! _An annoying little voice in her head said, but she shot it dead with her mere thoughts, however placing her hands against his chest; it was quite difficult to find some oxygen when her mouth was pressed against his body.

She breathed against his stomach until he finally climbed off of her.

'Were you trying to suffocate me?' she asked, and he gave her a smile so apologetically that she couldn't resist giggling herself.

'So I take it we're staying awake?' he asked, settling himself against the hay, again running a hand through his hair and Hermione swallowed when she felt the urge to do that for him.

For a minute she just lay silent in the hay, listening for uncommon sounds, but there was only a choir of crickets answering her silent call.

She then took off her coat, noticing it was quite warm in the little shack, perhaps due to the hay, perhaps because she ran for some twenty minutes a little earlier, throwing it aside carelessly.

Then Draco spoke.

'You and Weasley would probably be doing lots of other stuff in here, wouldn't you?'

He chuckled not very enthusiastically, and his voice died, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. Fortunately, Ron didn't stay in her mind for very long, her eyes were drawn towards Draco, who followed her example by taking off his coat, using it as a pillow.

'What do you mean?' she then asked, rolling over to her side in order to look him in the eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked at her quite vigorously by bringing up this subject.

'Well, if _I _were in love with you, and all alone with you in the middle of nowhere, I'd probably take the risk and do…' he stopped.

'Well, you are,' she pointed out and they both opened their mouths, yet neither spoke.

'Er…' he said.

'I mean, not in love with me,' she then continued hastily, her heart pounding against her chest like mad, 'just… in the middle of nowhere.'

They were silent for a while again, though she noticed him moving a little closer, before whispering:

'But what if I were?'

She looked at him in astonishment and felt the need to lie nearer to him.

'W… You mean, in love with me? But you're not.'

'Oh, but what if I were?' he repeated in the same whisper.

'Then…' her voice trembled as she continued staring him in the eye.

'Then what would you… do?'

He sat up and she wondered if he was going to burst out into laughter now, but his pale, grey eyes looked at her in a way that meant no joke.

'I could do this,' he rustled, and he moved his face so close to her she could see the lights in his eyes twinkling, his lips moving apart a little, yet they did not touch his.

Unable to speak, she laid still, feeling his finger stroke her hair, then trailing along her face, down her neck and pausing at her chest, coming to a halt there.

'And… what if I…' she started, banishing all thoughts of Ron (and a very severe looking Harry) now, feeling nothing but his body lying so close to her she swore she could feel his hips pressing against hers. They did not, actually, but she couldn't wait for it to happen.

'What if you…?' he asked, and his eyes now stopped their wandering over her face and looked straight into hers.

'What if I were in love with… with _you, _too?'

There was no question to that anymore and she smiled at him, awaiting his next step.

'Then perhaps, if you let me…'

'Oh, I'm letting you,' she breathed, and his mouth curled as it came nearer.

'Then I could do this.'

He moved downwards and his lips touched her neck. She barely felt it, though her body reacted instantly by sending a slow, pleasant shiver down her spine.

She moaned softly in pure desire and his lips followed a determined trail upwards, up her chin and he placed his final puppy kiss next to her mouth.

Hermione felt it was time to speak again, and she sought for the right words for a few seconds, leaving between them a comfortable silence.

'So what if we were… _lovers_?'

He moved so suddenly that she again wondered if this all was a joke, but he cast that silly little demon of objection and wonder away by climbing over her, placing one knee on either side of her.

He bent forwards and his face was now inches from hers again, his hair falling forwards, like little curtains between them, as if their touch had to be censored.

'Then this would be the right thing to do.'

Again placing a loving little kiss next to her mouth, his lips wandered to the left, and were pressed against hers before she'd even noticed.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him back, opening her mouth slightly to allow his tongue to seduce hers, allowing hers to play little games with him, and she lost herself in his touch, though for one moment enjoying the softness, tenderness that he exposed.

She had expected him to dominate her, making her his while kissing her, but she regretted even thinking about this when he broke apart, panting slightly, looking at her in a way she'd never seen him do.

'You're beautiful,' he said and she smiled and answered:

'Oh, the cliché.'

Rolling over in order to get on top of him, now, her arms still keeping him close, she took control, pouring all of her into another breathtaking kiss.

Her hands now loosened their grip and finally she placed one of them in his hair, the other chose a path down his face, his chest, opening her eyes to ask permission, but his eyes were closed and another shiver shot down her being as she unbuttoned his shirt…

There was nothing but Draco for her.

'Go on,' he groaned, pausing to have her take his shirt off, admiring the sight that was exposed to her.

'Like that, Granger?' he growled.

'How about hell yeah, Malfoy?'

His lips made contact with hers again and she felt him smile as their romantic battle continued, his fingers hovering above her shirt buttons before deciding to just rip it apart.

'Nice _and _naughty?' she said with a questioning look, and he didn't even bother to reply, his warm hands were all over her and she might as well have been a rag doll; he controlled her every move, took hold of her every motion, emotion…

'I'm yours,' she sighed in longing, yearning for more of his touch, and they rolled over once more…

She woke up in the sunlit barn, her head on Draco's chest and their legs entwined, her fingers tangled with his. She placed a little kiss right where his heart was and he woke up with a yawn. He opened his eyes, realizing who was on top of him and they both smiled in naughty delight.

'Good morning, stranger,' she said and he ran a hand through her hair, momentarily pausing to remove some hay.

'Good morning, hot stuff,' he replied and she giggled.

They lay together for some time, but Hermione's very realistic daydream was interrupted rudely when someone rattled the lock on the door.

'Oh, _shit,_' she said in fear, quickly releasing Draco from her loving clutch and searching for her wand. She muttered a hastily: '_Reparo_,' to fix her shirt, pulled it over her head, grabbed both of their cloaks, then Draco's hand and Disapparated from her lying position.

'Where are we?' Draco asked surprised, looking around at the little farm and barn in front of them, where a man just disappeared into.

'What do you think?' Hermione said a little edgy, though feeling amused, too.

'Outside, of course!'

'Oh,' said Draco, now recognizing the farm and she took his hand again, no longer afraid of touching him (oh, that hand had seen more by this time) and turning on the spot, being swallowed by thin air.

Her lungs were at breaking point when they finally Apparated; they were in front of the hotel.

'Hermione!' a voice behind them shrieked and she quickly let go of Draco's hand, giving him a cold stare as if nothing had changed behind them.

'Harry!' she replied as if she was happy to see him, flinging her arms around him, and he looked at her in utter happiness.

'So glad to see you, how _is _he?' she asked, her stomach lurching at the thought of her boyfriend.

'He's all right!' Harry said, pausing and looking at her in slight suspicion. 'Why is there hay in your hair? Oh, hey, Malfoy,' he said. 'And where did you come from?'

She coughed.

'Oh, a little accident.'

Draco shot her an accusing look and she bit her lip, remembering with a jump of her senses that yesterday she was biting his. Oh, this didn't help.

'Were the Healers able to fix him up immediately?' she then said, and Harry, clearly forgetting about his suspicious feelings, nodded happily.

'Yeah, it didn't take them too long, and guess what!'

'Er, what?'

'He's forgiven you! He knew you aimed at Malfoy and that it's him you hate –'

Hermione's stomach gave a sign of protest again and she looked at the sky.

_Like staring into the sun is going to cover up your sins, it'll just blind you, stupid._

'That's great! Oh, I was so worried,' she said convincingly, pulling him into another hug, almost Hagrid-like in her anger. The last thing she wanted was to face Ron.

'So I thought, you can come with me, pack your things and go visit him!'

'Sure!' she squealed in faked excitement, feeling as depressed as she had after she'd jinxed Ron.

The answer to the question 'what if her spell had hit Malfoy' now gave her a completely different insight.

'But er, actually, we still have to have some breakfast,' Draco interrupted, not looking forward to travelling on an empty stomach.

'You probably already stuffed yourself,' Harry said in a cool voice, but Hermione shook her head.

'No, it's true, we've been out all night, hiding from the Death Eaters,' she said in a low voice, feeling very guilty lying to her best friend.

Though there was a certain amount of truth in it…

Not compared with the amount of, er, other stuff they'd done that night, of course.

Harry stared at her. 'You found them? Did you capture them?'

He looked around her, as if expecting her to carry a bag of unconscious Death Eaters.

'Well, we did find them, but er – we kind of failed. I didn't even try to curse them; I guess there were an awful lot of them.'

'Yeah, there always have been too much of 'em. Hey, what about I join you for that breakfast, then? I'm actually kinda hungry, been in St. Mungo's all night and eat nothing but a banana I got from Lockhart.'

She giggled. 'You ran into Lockhart?'

'Yes, he's actually doing better, unfortunately. The nurses told me he remembered soaring out of a large pipe into something that looked like a toilet, with a boy that resembled me.'

'How did he know it was you?' she asked, aghast.

'Oh, nothing to worry about, he just shouted I looked like the boy from his memory when he ran into me in the hallway, and the nurses asked me to confirm all of it, but, well, obviously, I denied it all and said that he was still as weird as ever. They're all quite disappointed and now they're going to charge this guy who claimed he'd given Lockhart some of his memory back.'

About three of the words he spoke actually got to her; she was wondering what in hell's name she could tell Ron when she saw him.

He'd never believe she had merely been hiding from the Death Eaters, he would suspect Malfoy from being madly in love with her even if Draco just gave her an apple or something.

… Though she'd once read that apples were seen as an object of lust in medieval times. Maybe she could… She tried to stop her mind promptly, when Harry looked at her in a sort of interrogating way.

'Are you all right? I mean, you _do _agree, don't you?'

She stared at him.

'Of course I agree, what do you think? I'm just… hungry. Let's get inside.'

Harry and a relieved Draco followed her into the hotel, while she secretly cursed Harry and Ron and Ginny, too, though Ginny had nothing to do with this.

While they ate their breakfast in awkward silence, her thoughts returned to Ginny.

Of course, if she hadn't brought Ron to St. Mungo's so fast, they wouldn't have been able to fix him up so quickly…

She stopped eating at this in revulsion of herself. She still loved Ron, what was she _thinking? _If Ginny hadn't escorted Ron to Britain so quickly, he would probably be faceless forever. Disgusted, she shoved her plate away and tried to hide her watery eyes.

'What's wrong, Mione? Did scum face do anything to you?'

He and Harry stared at each other in the utmost hatred, and she quickly said:

'No, no, I'm just so, _so _relieved he's okay, I couldn't take my mind off him!'

Draco said in his most serious tone:

'Yeah, it was horrible being around her, trust me. All she could think about was Weasel, Weasel, and more Weasel. She taught me all of the stuff they do together; I nearly tried to kill myself.'

Harry turned his head so fast that he felt his neck with a painful look on his face at his comments.

'What did you teach him?' he said in a strange voice.

'What do you think, Harry? Oh, ew, not stuff like THAT!' she said, faking shock. 'He's talking about the stuff Ron _taught _me. I mean, trying to stay awake is a lot easier when you can talk about your boyfriend. I told him some stuff Ron had me learn about Quidditch and wizard's chess,' she made up quickly, and then added:

'I'm going to go upstairs and change, okay? I'll pack my things, and your things,' she said with a brief nod at Draco, 'oh, and the luggage you, Ron and Ginny brought along, too!'

Happy with so many things to do, she hurried towards the elevators that were now fixed, rammed the button in fury and jumped inside.

Half a minute later, she was at the top floor, running away from a freaky geezer that had tried to feel her butt in the elevator. If only she could use magic around him…

In her room, she changed into clothes showing as less skin as possible and remembering they were going back to the cold, wet English climate, she crammed an ugly hat on top of her head, one she'd once made for the house-elves.

Why had she even packed that?

Trying hard to focus on anything not involving Draco, Ron or Harry, or, well, any person in her normal life, she started packing and folding clothes neatly, brushed her teeth, ran from room to room in order to pack all their belongings together and about half an hour later, she stepped out of the elevator, holding more bags and suitcases than she could actually carry, and Draco and Harry, who were awaiting her, shot forward.

Her fingers tingled after Draco had touched them, taking over some of the bags, and they shared a quick look, in which she tried to put reassurance that they would talk later.

'I've made my decision,' she said, half to Harry, half to Draco.

'About what?' they asked together.

'The Death Eaters?' she said as if it were obvious and she saw Draco relax some muscles; if Hermione would blurt anything out to Harry, Draco would never leave Spain alive.

'We're gonna turn their hiding place over to the Ministry; you'll still get some credit, Draco, your name will be cleared anyway. And no protest, I'm NOT going back to that place!'

'Oh, I should've come with you,' Harry said regretful, and Draco shook his head like mad behind his back. Hermione snorted.

'What?' Harry asked.

'Nothing, just… I don't think it would've made much difference, they would outnumber us greatly even if you were there!' she improvised.

He seemed to accept this answer, and together, they Disapparated some three times to get back to Britain.

They stood before the store with the dumb dolls staring at them, and Harry turned to Hermione: 'Are you ready?' he asked brightly.

Hermione nodded, handing Draco his luggage; he felt no need to see Ron.

A lot of things left unsaid between them, he gave her a short stare, then Disapparated.

'Geez, glad he's gone,' Harry laughed. 'It was hell being alone with them in that restaurant, can't IMAGINE how you felt with him an entire _night!_'

She made a huge effort to laugh, but it didn't deserve the title 'laughter', the cold, high sound leaving her mouth could scarcely express joy.

'There we go!' said Harry, pushing her through the shop display, and she moaned.

'Yeah… there we go.'


	12. Skip the denial, share some details!

**Chapter twelve**

_Skip the denial, share some details!_

'Fourth floor!' Harry said cheerily and he bounced to the stairs, resembling Monsieur Delacour, dragging Hermione with him.

'Aren't you excited?' he asked, not even wanting to hear an answer; he clearly could carry both their happiness (actually, he could, Hermione was feeling as miserable as a cat that had just been pushed into a pond), and he pushed the door to the room where Ron was staying open in a smooth movement, giving Hermione the liberty to go in first.

Ooh, was she happy to take it.

The room was crammed with people; Ron was lying in his sickbed, waving happily, his arm in plaster bandage, and Hermione frowned; broken bones he did not have, and if he had; the healers would be able to fix that up in no time.

Sitting next to him, either holding his hand or laughing at him were Mr and Mrs Weasley, who was giving Hermione a hard stare, George, who, together with Charlie, took the opportunity to laugh at Ron, Ginny, who frowned at Hermione (oh, how nervous she was for a talk with Ginny when they were alone) and Neville, who was looking extremely nervous being here; he obviously thought of his parents, lying only a couple of rooms from Ron.

She could not suppress a grin seeing him; it wasn't like all her love for him had died when she'd kissed Draco. It had felt like bees were stinging her every time his name shot through her thoughts; now she felt just numb.

'Hey, you!' she said, a little carefully; there was still a chance that all the Weasleys plus Harry had been plotting against Hermione in order to get revenge, and that they would storm at her and try to Avada Kedavra her to hell and back again to shout at her about what a tramp she was cursing their son (or brother).

Instead, they all waved at her like Ron was doing, and Neville came running towards her, pulling her into a hug.

'Hey, Hermione!' he said, 'I came to visit my parents and I saw the Weasleys coming in and I thought I'd pay your boyfriend a visit! How are you doing?'

'Great, Neville!' she managed to say and she walked up to Ron, taking his hand.

'I'm so sorry,' she said, and he couldn't know how sorry she was.

Though Draco was now occupying her mind all the damn time, she still felt vengeful towards herself; she felt like she needed punishment for doing such a thing as cheating on her boyfriend.

'It's all right, Mione! It's Harry I should be mad at, he made you hit me,' he grinned, his freckly face happy as ever when he received a load of attention at once, 'how are you?'

'Better, now I've seen you! It's been a hell,' she said not entirely truthfully, she'd been a wreck after he had just left. 'What's up with your arm?'

He gestured that she should come closer and whispered: 'That was for Neville to see how serious it all was and to get him to fetch me some Chocolate Frogs.'

She burst into maniacal giggles, although it wasn't really _that_ funny, she just felt like doing anything except bursting into tears.

Ron patted her on the back with his free arm and beamed at her. God, why couldn't he just be screaming at her? That would give her an excuse to run away and get Draco to comfort her.

Oh, dang it, not again.

'Hermione?' Ginny asked from the corner of the room, where she was reading Witch Weekly, but holding it upside down like Luna read the Quibbler, so she clearly wasn't really focusing.

'Er, yes, Gin?'

'Could I talk to you? Like, outside?'

Hermione nodded, nervous for what was about to come, and walked out of the room, waiting for Ginny in the hallway where healers ran after a man with three tree branches growing out of his head; birds were flying all around him, trying to stab his eyes out. Hermione watched it for several seconds, then Ginny came after her, shutting the door behind her.

'You're wearing the guilty look!' she said in an accusing, though curious voice.

'Am I?' Hermione said in an unusual high tone.

'I can tell, I'm a girl,' Ginny said and Hermione sighed.

'Okay, so I'm wearing the guilty look. What's that mean?'

'You messed around with Malfoy!'

She didn't even sound mad.

'I – I what?' Hermione stammered, stumbling over the words that would not come.

'Skip the denial, tell me some damn details! Is he a good kisser? I mean, it's obvious you were confused and he's in love with you, otherwise he wouldn't come all the way with you to Spain, even allowing us to come with you,' she quickly reasoned, then throwing Hermione the curious, almost eager look again.

'Well, yes, he's… quite a good kisser, but, Ginny, aren't you mad?'

'Oh, I thought so,' Ginny said absent-mindedly, 'the evil ones are usually the better. Believe me, I can tell, Harry's… sort of wet and sloppy, though quite gentle.'

'I believe you. But… why aren't you mad!'

'Oh, well, like I said, you were confused after Ron left and he probably comforted you and all, and perhaps you… I don't know, I just… can't blame you. But if you touch Harry with one finger, I will reducto your ass apart,' she said in a sweet voice and Hermione laughed.

'Don't bother, I won't try and seduce Harry. I'm just… so confused, Gin. What can I do? I mean, Draco…'

'I prefer if you call him Malfoy, still don't like him!'

'Oh, well, Malfoy, then… Just, I love Ron, but it was just… so…'

'Where did you make out? Not in the hotel, in front of everyone, I hope?' Ginny said, and Hermione shook her head, shortly telling the Death Eater story.

'That's awesome. Wish I could've been there, I SO would've stayed in that fortress!' Ginny said, her longing for adventure displayed in her eyes, 'but… so you ran back to that barn?'

'Yeah, and well, there was a lot of hay and er, we kinda… did it in the hay.'

Ginny's mouth fell open and she looked rather stupid, but Hermione couldn't blame her.

'With _it _you mean… Ooh, Hermione, you slut!'

Hermione swallowed, trying to draw back her tears.

'Is he good?' Ginny added and Hermione cackled in an unnatural way.

'Well… Oh, this is so awkward. Yes, he is. Just… I think I'll visit him and I don't know, talk it over.'

'Yeah, I'm sure you will, that's hot. But who are you going to choose? I mean, I still pick my brother to be best for you, and all, this thing with Malfoy, it can't be more than a fling, can it?'

'I don't think so,' Hermione said, trying hard not to recall the past night.

'Ron's still, you know, the one I spent half my time at Hogwarts thinking about. I get really lonely when he's not around. Do you think I should tell him?'

Ginny let out a bark-like laugh.

'I bet he'll love that. No, Mione, I really don't think you should. He already forgave you cursing half his face off, how far do you want to go pushing this thing?'

Hermione stared at the ground for a while.

'I don't think I should be seeing Dra – Malfoy anymore. I might do it again.'

'And I think that's a good decision. Why don't you take Ron out for, I don't know, a mini-break or something? I was reading this Muggle magazine at the hotel and although I didn't get a thing of Spanish, Muggles seemed really happy in the pictures.'

'But that's for promotional purposes, most of them mini-breaks end in fights and it'll bring a lot of flaws in your relationship,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'Oh, sorry for proposing it.'

'Ah, I just might take him out for a mini-break once he gets out of St. Mungo's. It can turn out to be the best for the both of us…'

'Great idea.'

'Actually, it was your idea.'

'True. I'm great.'

They smiled.

'Ron?' Hermione said a couple of minutes later, being left alone by the rest of the family, who were interrogating Neville about stuff outside the Burrow in the hallway; they didn't leave the house much, not sure what to do now Fred was gone.

George was planning on leaving off to Hogwarts every weekend, however, every time taking one family member with him.

'Yes, Mione, whom I shall never propose to again?' he said, lifting up his arm, but she punched it and he didn't even wince.

'Stupid Malfoy,' he muttered, 'Confunding me like that. I'm sorry.'

'It's all right. I have a proposal for you, now.'

His mouth fell wide-open. 'You mean, like… a _proposal?_'

She stared at him blankly.

'No. I was thinking you and I should take a mini-break. You know, spend a little time together, just for a weekend, or something.'

He gave her a big grin.

'Cool!' he said, but immediately frowned. 'You – you'll pack for me, right?'

'Sure I will, you usually bring Ginny's underwear whenever you pack yourself.'

'I like the lace,' he commented, and Ginny's voice came shouting:

'Ew, I don't wear lace! Really, Harry, I don't. That's _so _girlish.'

'I'm so glad to have you back, Ronnie,' Mrs Weasley cooed, three days after Ron had left St. Mungo's, as she served him his French fries and salad to 'keep him handsome and healthy'.

'Yeah, me too, Wonnie,' George said in a good effort of impersonating Mrs Weasley, who shot him a cold look.

'You're awfully happy,' Ron said to his brother and so they started bickering about Fred's death being a good thing or not; George said that despite the fact he missed him during the week and he couldn't punch him or try stuff for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on him anymore, it was the best thing that had ever happened to Fred, dying.

Plotting and terrorizing with Peeves was almost as good as running a store with his brother, he'd said.

Hermione didn't really catch the words they were saying, she stared at her plate and, as if someone had put her in slow motion, she took baby bites of her food, chewing about a thousand times before swallowing, and Ginny, who sat next to her, poked her in the side.

'Wake up, weirdo,' she whispered, and Hermione stared at her.

'I should… go and pack,' she said. 'For tomorrow.'

'You've just unpacked all of our things, can't you give it a rest?' Ron asked, staring at his food happily.

'No, I like order,' she replied in a numb voice and she walked upstairs – again.

Being at the Burrow was even harder than she'd imagined. She knew that it would be hard facing Ron, seeing Draco's face floating in front of her instead, but it felt like she'd cheated on the rest of the Weasleys, too.

Not that she'd ever made out with George, or something. He was handsome, though…

_Oh, you Granger slut!_

One half of her brain that really desired Draco battled the other, which, well, also desired Draco, but Ron, too.

_The mini-break will make everything all right._

_Sure, _said the full-Draco part of her brain, _like you'll get over him when you're having fancy dinners in a fancy restaurant with your fancy ginger boyfriend. Draco's far more fancieable._

She laid herself down on Ron's bed and banged her head against the headboard to try and create some order (failed attempt, did cause head aches).

_Fancieable's not even a word, _snapped Draco/Ron Hermione, _and fancy dinners in a fancy restaurant with my fancy ginger boyfriend are all I can wish for._

Her Draco-support part didn't even make an attempt to comment on this ignorant Hermione, so both halves shut up for a while, leaving Hermione to fall asleep.

'Mione?'

Something poked her in the cheek.

'Miiiiione?'

_Someone _poked her in the cheek.

'Willyoustopthat?'

'Oh, yeah, sorry.'

It was Harry's voice and she sat right up, looking at his worried eyes blinking at her through his hazy glasses. He handed her a Butterbeer, taking one himself.

'Thanks, I – er - must've… fallen asleep.'

'Yeah, you sort of slept through the evening and Ron pitied you so much that he packed everything.'

'Oh,' she moaned, 'then I'll have even more unpacking to do.'

'Oh, no, Ginny's taking care of it now.'

'That's sweet, but I got to go look if –'

She attempted to rise from the bed, but Harry pushed her back and sat down next to her, wearing an almost fatherly expression.

'Look, I wanted to talk to you. You've been so absent all week, and I just… I don't know, you're not…'

He clearly forced himself to ask her something right now.

She curled her legs underneath her and looked at him in wonder.

'You're not… p – pregnant, are you?'

In huge relief, she burst into laughter and grabbed both of his hands.

'Harry, of course not! I'm just so… _tired _and I couldn't bring myself to do anything.'

'You're sure? You know, maybe you should check, I er – I bought you some tests.'

She stared at him in utter confusion.

'You don't really recognize the symptoms of pregnancy, do you?' she asked.

'Tonks!' he said defensively.

'Er, yeah. Well, unless I'm sick all the time or in desperate need of meat balls, just… don't worry about babies growing inside of me.'

He looked troubled. 'What have meat balls got to do with this? 'Cause Ginny loves them!'

She giggled. 'I don't like meat balls.'

'So?'

'When you're pregnant, you usually even eat all the food you don't like. You, er, eat a lot.'

He sighed, finally convinced.

'I'm so happy!' he said, rather… happy. 'But… If you're not pregnant, then what are you worried about?'

It struck her as quite imbecile to think that there were no things to worry about except for having children, but she answered him fondly.

'Nothing, I… Spain wore me out.'

She knew her cheeks turned a nasty shade of red right now.

'It was just… really hard facing all those things that I thought we'd gotten rid of in the war again and… I'm so happy I told Kingsley about them today, so that I have nothing to worry about no more.'

That was true; she'd indeed taken a trip to the Ministry, giving Draco as much credit as possible and inventing some moves he made to the Death Eaters, cool spells he'd performed to get them out of there, but finished saying they just overpowered them.

Draco and she would be in a shitload of trouble if Kingsley ever asked Draco how to perform a Disillusionment spell, actually.

There were, however, still things to worry about; like how she was going to see Draco when this thing was over.

… Not that she needed to see Draco, she'd seen enough of him.

… Another cheek-colouring thought.

'Hermione?'

Harry dragged her back to reality.

'I'm sorry, Harry, lost in thought, 'but it's true, I really am happy now and looking forward to my little holiday with Ron; we didn't get much of a holiday in Spain.'

'About that… What did you do with Malfoy?'

She gulped, spilling some Butterbeer.

'With – Malfoy?' she asked casually.

'Yeah, his nails were pink,' he said, looking disgusted at the thought of them doing girlish things together.

She chuckled. 'It was punishment. He wanted food and I wanted a manicure.'

'But he's the one with pink nails…?'

'Oh, yes, in order to get food he had to come with me. I think that traumatized him for life.'

Talking about Draco made her feel so much better and worse at the same time…

Oh, if she could only shoot just one part of her confused brain to give her some damn rest…

But which part would she take?


	13. Minimajor disaster

**Chapter thirteen**

_Mini-major disaster_

'Mione, wake up, it's time! G'morning, Gin!'

Ron's cheering voice rung through the silence that had, for once, been in her head, and she pretended to wake up, yawning theatrical.

'Hey, sweetie,' she said, accepting his hand helping her up.

'I'm just going to get dressed, okay?'

'Sure!'

And he bounced out of the room.

Ginny was sitting on her desk, and Hermione spotted her halfway through her attempt to force her body into a cute purple dress she never wore – she now remembered why.

'Looking forward to your mini-break?' Ginny asked, clearly looking forward to it herself; being alone with Harry without Ron watching their every step was quite pacifying.

'I am, actually!' Hermione answered, feeling that she really was.

'Where are you going again?'

'Oh, it's this pretty castle, aging from medieval times, but modernized for young witches and wizards to enjoy a quiet, loving time together,' Hermione rattled, quoting what a magazine had said. 'It's located outside some wizarding village called Allrotten Village – no, I did not make that up.'

'Cool,' said Ginny in appreciation, jumping off her desk, 'Have to feed Pig, Ron's been running around the house all morning; I bet my brains he forgot all about his owl. Again.'

She, too, left the room and Hermione, who now stood brushing her hair, cursing it for her frizzy curls.

'Hermiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiione, the Portkey's about to leave!' Ron sang from below, and moody, she grabbed her purse and foot-stamped down the stairs, roaring:

'COMING!'

Ron flashed his eyes up and down and smiled.

'You look great! Come here, it leaves in a minute.'

He was holding an enchanted room key; it had arrived by mail and would be their Portkey to the castle. Once they had arrived there, it would just do its duty as their room key, Hermione thought it was a really good idea.

She placed a finger on the small object, they both shouted 'Goodbye's and 'Love you's and were pulled through blurry landscapes, and, feeling slightly nauseous, Hermione landed on top of Ron, who had managed to get down all right, but now fell to the floor again.

'Sorry,' she giggled and they both stumbled to their feet, looking around in silent admiration.

They were standing in a huge hall, with floors, walls and ceiling all made of black marble. There were large paintings with golden frames, of serenely smiling wizards and witches, all dressed in old, though fashionable costumes.

There was a large, golden counter with two skinny witches behind it; they looked identical, and not just because they were obviously identical twins, also because their hair was tied back in neat buns, and they were wearing the same clothes; a white blouse and, as far as Hermione could tell, a black skirt. They both had a red scarf wrapped around their neck and even wore the same, glittering golden earrings.

There were a large staircase, made out of white marble (what a variety of colours) and two golden elevators. Some other couples were walking through the hall; they all looked excited or really relaxed, you could tell which ones had been in the castle for a couple of days. Two girls came falling out of nowhere, both of their fingers looking glued to another room key, landing like a big pile of limbs.

'This is… spooky,' Ron said, poking a graciously turning and swirling witch in the face; she looked like she was made of stone and her eyes were dead.

'It's an enchanted statue, Ron,' Hermione sighed, walking over to the counter with the room key still clutched in her hand.

'Welcome!' one of the twins said in a high, clear voice and Hermione now saw her nametag saying Crystal, the other girl's said Sky.

_How poetic._

'Did you have a good trip?' Sky asked, looking interested, but Hermione suspected she didn't really care.

'Er, as long as it lasted, yes, sure! We're –'

'The Weasleygrangers?'

Hermione frowned. 'Well, one Weasley and one Granger.'

Sky gave her a _don't care _sort of look. They would sleep in one room anyway.

'Yes, you arrived júst at the right time, and hey, there's the Prawlers! Crystal, will you help Mrs Weasleygranger out? Then I'll show the Prawlers around.'

'Sure!' Crystal said to her sister and they both gave their guests fake smiles.

The two girls that were named the Prawlers looked thoroughly scared.

'Yes, Mrs Weasleygranger, you already have your room key, room number sixteen is on the fourth floor. You will find that your room has been customized, too!'

Hermione'd had to fill in some wish list, and she hadn't really gotten the point of that until now.

'Cool,' Ron said, who now appeared behind Hermione. The statue of the witch had now turned her back on them; Ron probably thought she was so scary that he could not look her in the stony face again.

'Have a lot of fun!' Crystal, obviously better-natured than her sister, said with a meaningful smile and Hermione giggled.

'I sure we will!'

She cast a look at the paper with Wizards To Arrive that was lying upside down before her, and two minutes after their arrival stood a most familiar name…

'Whatchoo lookin' a, Monugh?' Ron asked with a muffled voice and Hermione forced herself to look at his direction; he'd found a glass vessel with candy and was stuffing his mouth.

She moaned in humiliation and dragged him away from the counter, waving apologetically at Crystal, who just smiled at her. Again.

'Let's take the elevator, I'm lazy,' Ron said.

'I bet you are,' Hermione smiled, managing to keep her happy face as she remembered Draco carrying her up the stairs.

They were zooming upwards, Ron whistling a tune from the Weird Sisters. Hermione was still wondering whether or not she'd seen the name Malfoy on the list. It could've been anything. Like Malloy or Mellow, or… or Honeybun.

She trashed her doubts when they stood in front of their room; the door was made of pretty wood painted black.

'Curious how it's been customized!' Ron said, opening the door and bouncing inside. It was at that moment that Hermione remembered her wish list.

'What the HELL?' Ron shrieked, turning towards her, his ears red.

She couldn't help but to give him a smile, looking like some sort of cheeky monkey.

'I er – didn't really understand the wish list they sent…' she giggled and he looked at her in terror, waiting for her to speak again.

'So I sort of… chose fluffy and er –'

'Oh,' Ron snarled, 'let me take this one. PINK?!'

He now stepped aside, allowing Hermione to go inside and gaze at the pink paradise herself.

There was a large four-poster bed welcoming them – pink, with salmon-coloured sheets and matching curtains tied together with a dark pink rope.

She saw magenta flowers and an orchid-coloured carpet to match the drapes, while Ron rampaged around about people thinking he was her gay friend or something.

'I bet they did the bathroom, too,' he muttered and marched to the bathroom door.

'Oh, how wonderful!' he yelled. 'Hey Mione, guess what colour is blinding me in here?'

She shrugged, but since he was unable to see that, she said: 'Pink?'

He snorted. 'No, that's would be way too obvious. It's apple-green, equally horrifying.'

'Ooh, yes, I remember that one!'

She had been momentarily distracted while picking the bathroom colours and decorations.

She grinned as an idea came to her. She wrestled herself out of the suffocating purple dress that coloured nicely with the floor it landed on, and frolicked to Ron.

Covering his eyes with her hands, she wondered for a moment why anyone would even pick apple-green to be an _option _for a hotel room that was supposed to be healthy for your stress level.

This shit would've driven Umbridge mad!

'Knock knock,' she said, removing one hand to bang her fist on his skull twice – just for the effect.

'Auch! Who's there?' he asked grumpily.

'Me,' she started, and Ron snapped:

'Gee, I was wondering…' before she added:

'Half-naked.'

'In that case,' he said, sounding definitely more brightly, turning around, lifting her by the waist and carrying her to the king sized bed, 'bring on the hot stuff!'

After a while of some slow kissing; Hermione was sitting on top of him, purring like Crookshanks with a new-found rat, Ron said: 'Hermione?'

Hermione had already told him to stop glancing upwards; he'd done that about sixty times every two minutes.

'Yes?' she said, a little offended because he thought there was something important enough to break up a passionate kissing set of hers, and she felt very vulnerable, thinking he might be about to embarrass her in some way.

'It's… it's this stupid ceiling, I can't do it!'

She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and giggled when she saw what he meant. There was a painting attached to it of two witches staring down at them; at least, that's probably what they were doing before turning to their Witch Weekly of June, 1875 again.

'Do you think that – that they do that in every room?'

'I don't know,' she laughed, trying to cut the painting loose with her wand, but it was probably attached there with a Permanent Sticking Spell; Hermione could see the humour of it.

… Ron couldn't.

'Maybe we should go swimming in that lake, or something…' he muttered, keeping eye contact with one of the witches in the painting, that kept staring at him, too; soon they had each other's eyes captured in a wild staring contest.

Hermione chuckled, looking for the suitcase where Ginny had packed her bikini in.

'Ah, there you are,' she said, hearing Ron shouting furious insults to the witch, who cackled down at him.

'Wait… Ron,' she said, and he muttered something like 'What?'.

'Er… Don't you think it's a little too… cold to swim?'

'Oh, yeah, turn down every idea I have!' he said irritated, and she snorted.

'Well I'd like to see you make a dive while it's minus ten degrees outside! I can look if there's something else to do, though…'

'You do that,' he growled, clearly not mad at her, but at the woman in the painting, indicating he wasn't planning on losing this thing.

'HA!' she heard him yell, while her eyes shot through the flyer, 'YOU LOOKED AT YOUR MAGAZINE, I SAW IT!'

The woman let out a clearly audible sigh.

'But it's… it's professor Clocksmart, he's… so _handsome!_'

'Professor Clocksmart?' Ron and Hermione asked together, and Hermione sat back down on the back to gaze upwards at the magazine the witch now showed them.

It was a 19th century version of Gilderoy Lockhart; bright blue eyes, expensive robes and a blinding smile, even for their time.

'I think professor Lockhart had a small change of name…' Hermione frowned, turning back to her flyer.

'Hey, Ron, there's a swimming pool inside, we can go there!'

'Did you pack my swimming trunks?' he asked and she sighed.

'I sure hope Ginny did…'

Some fifteen minutes later, Hermione had Transfigurated Ron's old boxers with little ducks on them (which Ginny had probably thought were pretty funny to pack) into swimming trunks… with little ducks on it.

'Mione, there's no WAY I'm wearing this, I can't bear any more fashion humiliations after the Yule Ball. You do remember the Yule Ball, don't you?'

'Oh, yes, you looked very handsome,' Hermione said, while stepping into her bikini, 'now quit the whining and put them ON, it's not like anyone here knows you!'

Moody like Madame Pince after a week without Filch, he put them on, complaining about how tight they were and how they didn't feel right.

Hermione spun around, looking him up and down.

'I think it looks cute, the ducks match your hair.'

True; she'd accidentally turned the ducks red, but he couldn't complain; at least he got to go swimming now, didn't he?

She pulled her dress back over her head again, and when Ron was dressed again, they walked downstairs, Hermione continually giggling about Ron's swimming trunks, leaving him in a rather down mood.

'Oh, cheer up, we have an entire weekend alone in a lovely environment, what could possibly bring you down?'

'Hm, no idea!' he said, pushing open the men's dressing room and letting out a small roar of displeasure at the thought of it, 'maybe two sneaky witches staring down at us while we're… you-know-what-ing, a furry, pink room and swimming trunks with ducks? We just arrived an hour ago!'

'I'll have the room decorations changed, okay?' she said, giving him a gentle nudge into the dressing room and going to the women's room herself, closely followed by a pretty blonde witch.

'Was that your boyfriend?' the witch asked, taking off her beige dress, looking really sophisticated and Hermione answered in a rather humble way:

'Yes, yes he is.'

The witch giggled, her blue eyes glittering.

'What's up with the little ducks?'

'Oh, er, tiny accident, we can't get them off and he didn't bring anything else,' Hermione made up quickly, tying her hair back (water made it even frizzier and big than it already was) and smiling at the witch.

'I'm Hermione. Are you here alone?' she asked.

'Oh, no, I'm with my fiancé, I suppose he's done by now, I hope you'll enjoy yourself here,' the witch said kindly and she walked out of the room, reminding Hermione of a swan. She stopped at the threshold. 'I'm Alise, by the way.'

Feeling slightly euphoric about being liked by someone that pretty, and rather stupid about the exact same thing, she walked out of the dressing room, being awaited by Ron, who was smiling now.

'What happened?' Hermione asked.

'Nothing,' he said far too quickly.

She raised one eyebrow. 'You saw a nice blonde witch with blue eyes and a yellow bikini walking by and you thought you'd get her to talk to you by drooling all over the floor?'

'No, that's… that's absolutely not true. Can we go swimming now?' he asked, and he looked genuinely sorry about trying to flirt with another girl that she forgave him instantly.

'She has a fiancé, by the way, don't get your hopes up too much,' Hermione said happily, breaking through the surface of the rather deserted swimming pool (most couples were just strutting around it, showing off their nice bodies and boy- or girlfriends) by diving into it.

'Come on!' she said to Ron when he stood quite still, looking as if he was wondering if the water would bite him if he came in.

He smiled and made a rather spectacular dive; he managed to land with his back flat on the water, and when the rest of him sank into the pool, his legs were still trampling above the water.

Hermione laughed at him, but immediately stopped when his head probably as red hot as his temper appeared above the surface again.

'I'm sorry,' she said, 'that looked… funny.'

'Hm.'

Hermione wanted to swim to the edge of the pool, but stopped dead when she saw the lady both she and Ron had been admiring, Alise.

She was with a wizard who was bent forwards over a large bag (Hermione giggled, she saw only his backside), with, of course, just as fine a body as Alise had – as far as she could tell. He had almost white hair.

'Honey, look who's there, it's the girl I just told you about,' Alise said in a kind voice, and the wizard turned around, looking directly into Hermione's eyes.

'Ah, yes,' said Draco, after they'd stared at each other for a while. Alise looked curiously from the one to the other and said: 'Should I introduce you?'

'No need to,' said Hermione, her mind spinning, 'I knew him.'

Ron frowned at this comment and gave Malfoy a death stare, before pulling Hermione away from him, leaving Alise flabbergasted and Draco looking more miserable than they'd ever seen him – actually, they didn't see him look like that; Ron and Hermione swam away from them, Hermione's eyes swam with tears.


	14. Apple tarts and lake fiascos

**Chapter fourteen**

_Apple tarts and lake fiascos_

'What was that all about?' Ron asked some five minutes later; without speaking to each other, they'd decided to go into some fancy whirlpool designed by Muggles. Ron looked a tad bit afraid of it.

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked, blinking furiously to fight her tears.

As all she could think was _fiancé, my fiancé… fiancé… _she managed to say:

'Just a little mistake, I meant I knew him _at Hogwarts_,' she said.

'Yeah but she must've known about him going off to Spain with him?' Ron asked.

'I don't think so, he's probably not to proud of it that he went shopping and fighting around the world with a couple of Mudbloods and blood traitors.'

She laughed bitterly.

'His fiancé is probably a pureblood of the finest sort.'

'I bet she is,' Ron said, still a little admiration to be heard in his voice, and he quickly added: 'Let's not think about Malfoy and his little princess too much, we should eat!'

She chuckled. 'You should earn your food, Ron Weasley, let's swim, first.'

It had taken a lot of courage and effort to keep her spirits up, but fortunately, Ron didn't leave her alone with her thoughts for one second, so she couldn't even mull it over for just a moment.

They swam for about an hour and a half before going to an extensive lunch, where Ron was giving her a flashback by diving on macadamia nuts again… before he discovered the rest of the buffet. She never knew how he kept all that food in, but he seemed to enjoy himself, so she acted like she was having a great time, too.

Now they were having tea in a large salon with high ceilings, a lot of golden accessories in it and a band was playing slow, jazzy tunes. Hermione brought Ron his third piece of apple tart and he kept insisting that she'd have some, after which she'd laugh and say she wasn't hungry (out of boredom, she'd had a lunch about as large as Ron's) and he'd be happy 'cause he'd have another piece of pie all for himself.

After dinner, while Hermione was changing into a black blouse with white, wide skirt, Ron said (from the bed that was still fluffy and pink): 'I don't feel so well, 'Mione…'

'What's wrong, then?' she asked, looking at his face; it did look a little green.

'Let me have a guess,' croaked one of the old witches on the portrait that Ron was again staring at, 'it's the mouldy apple pie you ate… That's been here since we lived here!' she laughed.

Ron made retching noises not unlike the time he'd spit out slugs, in their second year.

'Hmm, I really wanted to stroll around that lake, it looks so beautiful around here,' Hermione murmured, then said: 'But I'll stay here, I can't leave you like this.'

'No!' said Ron, obviously feeling guilty, just the way she'd planned it.

'No, I'll just lie down and I'll be all right, it's just two-hundred-year-old pie, huh?'

'Are you sure?' she said, blinking innocently and leaning a little towards him as if indicating that she'd want to stay with him more than anything.

'Yeah, I'm sure, I'll just call room service or something.'

She shook her head in disgust; how could he _still _think about food? She planted a little kiss on his nose and left the room, after grabbing her cloak along and giving him another concerned look.

Her cloak flapped around her ankles as she left the castle, glancing around in surprise; it was even prettier than the picture on the flyer had said.

There was a lake matching in size with the Black Lake at Hogwarts, surrounded by large oak trees and there were little benches occupied by entwined couples.

Hermione got some pitiful looks as she walked past them, sitting on a bench alone, heaving her legs onto the bench and wrapping her arms around her knees.

She placed her chin on her knees and stared at the water, rippling peacefully, and she watched tiny creatures climbing out of the lake; she recognized them as Wriggly Wurms, unable to live for more than five minutes on land, but not able to resist the temptation of going out of it, either. They were very silly creatures and Hermione was sad to watch them die one by one.

Her eyes gazed over the lake and saw someone stand on the opposite side, looking at her; she didn't see the person's eyes, but she felt them. She looked around and noticed that it had turned dark outside; the moon was now lighting the scene a little, but she was merely able to tell the sorts of the water plants anymore (not that anyone but Neville would've cared about that, anyway).

She stood up and swallowed. She'd recognized him at once and from under her cloak she drew her wand, wanting to shoot at least the Death Curse at him, but for now, she was satisfied to just Stun Draco, and when he was Stunned, she could push him into the lake, never to be found again.

But she'd scarcely fired the spell, when he broke her curse with a Shield Charm.

'Hermione,' he called over the lake, as the last couple made their way back into the castle, looking almost glued together. Tears ran down her face and she sat down on her bench again, but immediately jumped back to her feet again when he cried:

'I wanted to tell you!'

'NO,' she screamed, 'NO, YOU DIDN'T! YOU WEREN'T GOING TO TELL ME, YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE ME IN IGNORANCE UNTIL I'D READ THE WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT.'

He remained silent for a while, and his voice was soft, yet ringing in the silence of only the rustling trees, when he said:

'You're right. Can I come over?'

Ha, good thing he was scared to death; she was in a state of total rage and able to slit his handsome throat any time now.

He came closer and closer, while she tried to shelter herself from him by embracing her knees again.

'You betrayed me,' she roared as soon as he got closer.

He snorted. 'I betrayed you? You're going on mini-breaks with Weasley, though we both know where your preferences lie.'

'At least you _KNEW _I was dating him! And it's perfectly clear where _your _preferences lie, so why don't you go back to your pretty little blonde FIANCÉ and think about how you can deceive her, too?'

Her eyes were swimming with tears now and his features were blurred.

She saw how he sat down next to her on the bench, though keeping some distance and when she furiously wiped her tears away, she saw him biting his lip as if to draw back his tears, too.

'Getting emotional? Any idea how I'm feeling right now?' she asked.

'No, I don't, I should've told you. But… you and me, it was just one night, right?' he said, clearly trying to find excuses herself.

'How long have you known?' she asked; anything to not say _'you said you were in love with me'_.

'About what?' he frowned, causing to get her as enraged as ever again.

'Don't play stupid on me, _Malfoy_, you know damn well about what, about your damned ENGAGEMENT, of course!' she shrieked, clutching her knees even tighter.

'Hermione,' he said, and his voice broke, causing him to stay silent for a while.

'What's your point, anyway?' he then said, 'you've got Weasel, right?'

She stared at him in terrified amazement and stood up, running from him as fast as she could.

… Unfortunately, he ran a tad bit faster.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, covering both of them in the shadow of an oak tree.

'Let me GO,' she sobbed, banging her free fist on his chest, but he took her other hand, too, and looked her in the eyes.

'I've known it since I was about eight, or something,' he said and she yelped like a wounded dog.

'Why –' she started off, but he made a weird, hushing sound and she kept her mouth shut.

'When we were kids, our parents had us play together, and Alise was a real bitch, but when she grew older, she became more and more a… woman, I guess.

I'm still not in love with her, but she's what my parents had planned for me; pure-blood and pretty. Although it's not important to them anymore, being a pure-blood, not like it was before, the arranged marriage is still going to happen, and one night of magic with you can't change a thing about that.'

She lowered her arms now, feeling numb and fragile, as she allowed him to pull her into a warm embrace, while she now sobbed against his shoulders.

'You're family sucks,' she sniffed.

'No, but their manners sort of do, arranged marriages are almost medieval.'

'I just… wish it was different,' she said, feeling incredibly stupid.

'Well, it's not,' a different voice sounded from behind them and Hermione, letting go of Draco in about a nanosecond, saw Alise, dressed in a classy brown coat, her long blonde hair waving in the chilly wind. Her face was pale like Draco's, but her expression was like a Blast-Ended Skrewt on fire.

'You've got to stop stalking my husband-to-be, Hermione,' she said, sounding strangely distinct for someone with such a soft, serene voice.

'S-stalking?' Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes and staring at her in disbelief.

'Yes, I thought you were a sweet girl at first, but it's quite clear to me now, Draco has told me all about your odd behaviour during your school time… and afterwards.'

Hermione gazed at Draco, whose expression was vague; he didn't look her directly in the eye as she thought what nonsense he'd made up about her.

'Fine,' Hermione said, not knowing what to do except for throwing insults, 'believe what you want to believe, it's not like he loves you, anyway. You being together has been settled way back, hasn't it? This is not about _love_.'

She tried to make Alise insecure about Draco's feelings for her, tried to break at least some trust in her fiancé, but she just gave Hermione a sickeningly sweet smile.

'And attempting to mess around with my Draco while you have a cute ginger boyfriend is your idea of love? Please. I can't see how Draco can still be so sweet towards you.'

Hermione thrust her hips to one side, placed her hand on her left hip and said:

'Maybe you should visualize the _attempt _to mess around quite different, mrs Malfoy-to-be.'

Alise frowned and turned to Draco.

'She's not saying what I think she is, is she? Surely you wouldn't play around with anything like _that, _I thought Pansy Parkinson was bad!'

She laughed a horse-like laugh, quite unnatural.

He did not reply, he just shook his head – Hermione didn't believe he was denying it; he was just trying to shake the thoughts away, like she was.

She laughed hoarsely. 'Denial won't save you, Malfoy.'

She felt like she'd definitely stretched her ability of hurting people to breaking point, and had reached her goal. Feeling sick and left alone, she turned around and walked back to the castle, leaving the two behind, bickering loudly. She smiled, disgusted. Disgusted of both herself and the entire Malfoy family, of Ron, of Harry with his stupid pregnancy tests, and most of all of Ginny, for not talking all of this out of her – there had been no night since St. Mungo's that she hadn't dreamed of pale hands running down her back, and of hot breath in a hay-filled barn. Why?

When back in the room, she dropped herself on the now black bed (Ron had ordered everything to be as grave as possible), where Ron was vast asleep, his mouth slightly opened and she loathed herself for being who she was and doing what she did.

Since when didn't logic control her anymore?

The following day she woke up with Ron all over her; she had no idea how they'd ended up like that, but it took a while before she'd detangled herself from him.

She walked over to the bathroom, now classy shades of beige, making her feel nauseous; it resembled the colour of Alise's dress. She couldn't think about Draco or his fiancé anymore, it made her unfocused and confused.

She put both of her hands on the cold bathroom sink and looked in the mirror, staring at her bushy hair and deer-in-headlight eyes (at least, that's how she looked right now), but barely noticing the difference in her looks; all she saw was a weird blur.

It took a while for her to start thinking rationally again; she needed to figure out a plan to avoid Draco, and to avoid Ron from running into Draco… or Alise, but they were probably here the entire weekend, just like them. Why did they have to get the unhappy coincidence of going to the exact same place at the exact same time, anyway? Couldn't they just sit in the Malfoy's manor, drink tea and laugh over Mudbloods and half-bloods? Of course, that era was over, but there was still a certain air about the Malfoy's; when she ran into them at the Ministry, at the times she'd visit the place, Lucius Malfoy still sneered and snarled over everyone else.

Unable to come up with her plan, however, she stumbled through the bathroom; her footsteps were echoed by the walls, resumed to her leaning position in the shower, hands on the wall and her head down.

She thought of all the reverse that had happened to her, that bittersweet calamity, and wanted to punch something, but couldn't, 'cause Ron sleepy voice sounded from the bedroom: 'Hey Mione, what time is it? D'you think they've got breakfast already?'

… She'd like to be anywhere but here.


	15. Be mine amongst cleaning supplies

**Chapter fifteen**

_Be mine (amongst cleaning supplies)_

'Hermione, whazzwrong, you're nowt eating anypling!'

Ron was chewing on a tasty-looking piece of beef (at least, it looked very tasty in his eyes, Hermione thought it looked quite distasteful, especially since there were boogie-coloured juices flowing out of it) and looked at her in an interrogating way; eating manners were the only way by which he could analyse the human behaviour.

'Ron, it looks quite disgusting, yoghurt's fine by me.'

He opened his mouth in horror and accidentally spat some beef all over her; she shrieked in repulsion.

'That's rancid!' he said.

'No, _that's _rancid, ew!' She wiped some beef off her robes (they were dressed like actual wizards today) and stared at him. 'What did you do that for?!'

'I didn't mean to, o'course!' he said, swallowing the last of his meat, 'but just yoghurt for breakfast? Didn't you learn anything at our place?'

'No, I learned not to eat too much, and definitely not too much of that,' she pointed at his loaded plate, filled with "tasty delights", as Ron called him, 'for they will definitely be a killer for your teeth.'

'Oh, I forgot, dentist family…'

'Damn right!' she said. 'So I was thinking…'

She had been thinking! She'd been really happy when she had finally come up with a solution to avoid Malfoy & Princess, and make sure Ron didn't bump into them, either (he was really good at that stuff).

'You were thinking,' Ron said, his eyes drawn to his plate every six seconds, but he obviously forced himself to look her in the eyes.

'It's all right, you can eat,' she said, and couldn't recall witnessing someone picking up knife and fork so quickly.

'Anyway, I thought maybe we could visit that castle nearby!'

'Mione,' he said, abandoning his attempts to have a "normal" breakfast, 'we're _in _a castle.'

'Oh, yes, then how about that cute brewery, I bet you'll love that!'

'… That's where they make beer?' he asked, blinking stupidly.

'That's correct!' she cheered.

'Cool, I love beer.'

She sighed happily.

'Yeah, me too. Addicted to it. Absolutely adorable. Beer.'

He frowned, but thought his delicious bacon and eggs to be far more important than her sudden alcoholism, and he did not ask her about it again.

From the moment they arrived until the moment they left, Hermione let out excited squeaks every time the dull brewer that looked somewhat like Aberforth Dumbledore's goat, said something.

She questioned him about every step of the beer-brewing process, though she couldn't care shit about it.

About two hours after their arrival, while Hermione stifled little yawns behind her sleeve (or she simply dove behind a large vat filled with beer that smelled ancient), the brewer said something quite shocking, though Ron loved the idea immediately:

'Why don't the two of you take part in our most noted tradition, missus and mister?'

'And what would that be?' Hermione asked suspiciously, not planning on downing an entire bucket of his gross medieval beer or something.

'The beer-dive!' roared the brewer happily, and he added: 'Oh, you will not be naked or som –'

'We weren't planning to.'

'- ething,' continued the brewer, not to be disturbed, 'you'll wear our special beer suits!'

'What a ridiculous tradition,' Hermione snorted; she hadn't read anything about it in the flyer, she was quite sure the brewer was just a dirty geezer wanting to see either her or Ron naked.

'I love it, gimme that suit!' Ron said, running off to change behind a barrel as soon as he could clutch it in his greedy hands.

'Oh, what the hell, can you give me one of those, too? BUT DON'T WATCH!' Hermione barked as the man's eyes started glistening.

She hoisted the unflattering, brown suit and looked at herself in a mirror with a slight frown. There was a large glass of beer printed on her stomach and a happy man (strangely resembling the goat-like brewer) holding it. Gee. She put her wand in her sleeve with a firm hand movement; this place was scary.

'So where do we do this beer dive?' she asked when Ron and she came bouncing back from behind their barrels (though she didn't bounce quite as happy as he did).

'Right over there!' the man said with a definitely excited tone in his voice and with a dramatic gesture, he pulled a rope that opened a black velvet curtain, showing an enormous tub, filled with what was unmistakably beer, fizzing and luring at them, and Hermione sighed, wondering what the hell she'd got them into again.

'Awesome!' Ron said, running off to the large diving board, climbing on top of it, banging his fists on his chests in a caveman-like way and jumping into the water.

He broke the surface of the large foam layer with a deafening smack, screaming in delight, and when his face peeped up above the water again, he said:

'Hermione, this is wonderful!'

No doubt he dove in again to drink some of it, and Hermione strolled off to the diving board herself.

'You're sick,' she said to the brewer, who didn't stay two feet away from her.

'How long has it been that someone's even _done _this?'

He sniggered, not answering her question and pulling an accusing face as to him being responsible for Ron's sudden beer-madness, she stepped onto the diving board, and said an unhappy: 'Yay.'

Then she dove in, through the foam and into the golden substance.

When she resurfaced again, gasping for breath, she said:

'This is actually quite… tasty!'

It had a weird taste, but it was really nice and she drank some more of it.

'AH-HA!' the brewer yelled, and Hermione turned to him at once; she'd heard him using some weird German accent.

'What the hell?' she whispered, expecting him to pull off his mask and show some evil professor's face any moment now, but he merely laughed maniacally.

Hermione tried to swim to the edge, but was only able to reach Ron; it felt like the substance was getting solid, and she felt dawdling.

'Ron…' she murmured, but he looked even more indolent than her, smiling lazily with a dull look on his face.

'AH, MY MASTER,' the brewer yelled and she gave him a terrified stare; he _really _frightened her and this was starting to look like a scenery from a crappy Muggle B-film.

'My master!' he repeated, 'Ja, they finally came! Ah ja, the redhead und his smart girlfriend, they came zu my brewery!'

He said brewery in a weird tone and Hermione couldn't help but giggle; his crazy eyes flicked towards hers and held them in a wicked stare.

'Ah, ja, laugh, my fair Chosen One's girlfriend! In minutes, you vill be DEAD! And we vill celebrate mit our lord!'

She frowned, not willing to stay any longer, and pushing Ron underneath the foam layer, she breathed in and got down herself; it was still liquid enough to move.

She took Ron's hand and, after a few failed attempts, she Disapparated back to the castle.

Feeling reborn and as sharp as ever, they were lying hand in hand in the big courtyard of the castle. It was freezing outside and Hermione shivered, getting up and pulling Ron up, too.

'Did we just… escape from some crazy East-European beer-brewer?'

She snorted. 'Yes, we did.'

'Well, that was… surreal.'

'You can't trust anyone who suggests having us dive into a beer-pool, anyway, what were we thinking?'

_What _you_ were thinking, actually, but hey, no accusations from the lovely cheating Hermione!_

'Hermione, I think I'm… going to have a bath…' Ron murmured, awestruck and still soaking wet from all the beer; as was she, actually.

'You want me to cast a Disillusionment charm over you?'

'No, I'm fine…'

He stalked off and she burst into laughter. What had just happened?

She stood up and cast a camouflage spell over herself; no way was she going to let people spot her wearing a _beer costume._

She was mulling over the fact if she should go back to the brewery and erase the brewer's memory, but getting stuck in a beer tub again didn't sound quite tempting.

'Hermione?' a voice behind her whispered and she looked down; she was still really hard to spot.

'How did you know?' she murmured back and felt two hands pulling her shoulders, and before she knew it, Draco had pushed her into a cupboard that had been neatly hidden by some large plants.

'Well, you pulled that trick on me once, too, and I saw Weasley talking to you before you became invisible…'

She lifted the charm and lit her wand, her eyes wandering around the small place.

'It's full of cleaning supplies,' she said, unnecessary; he could've figured that out himself, since he was sandwiched between her and a large box of bleach water.

'Yes, it is,' he answered. 'But us making out in the hot tub with my future wife and your future hubby around wouldn't be the smartest idea, would it?'

'Were you planning to make out with me?'

'No…' he said, his eyes wandering through the dim-lit cupboard, 'I was wondering whether or not Flashing Soap Flakes from Keep It Clean! is really the best choice for wizard or witch…?'

She giggled, highly conscious of Draco's body pressed against hers.

'So…' he then said.

'So… My best friend hates you.'

'My best friend hates you.'

'Who's your best friend?'

'Erm, and my blood status and yours don't match,' he said, avoiding this issue very smoothly.

She nodded. 'We're complete opposites.'

'I'm getting married…'

He moved only inches, but she felt it and her cheeks flushed bright pink.

'Me too, I mean, that'll only be a matter of time…'

She bit her lip.

'My boyfriend is in the hotel.'

'As is my fiancé.'

'We were each other's worst enemies.'

They were silent for a while.

'God, I want you,' he then groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist as she flung hers around his neck and kissed him hungrily.

Her wand flickered and the spell died with the light, as they stole each other's breath and she seized his hair, as he bit her lip in a cheeky, daring way.

'Mh,' she moaned and she felt his lips curl against hers, as they looked each other in the eye for a second.

For some ten minutes, they just kissed and tried to feel as much skin as they possibly could without having to touch Hermione's disgusting, wet beer suit.

'You actually smell very sexy,' he grunted; they sat in the dark cupboard, Hermione leaning against Draco's chest with his arms around her stomach.

'Oh, yes, I smell like dry-humping and beer, really appealing,' she reacted, and wanted to add something naughty, but her voice died in the middle of forming a word, as she heard a voice in the hallway say:

'Hey, aren't you Malfoy's fiancé?'

It was Ron.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other in total terror and stood up as quick as they could, though no-one had caught them doing anything.

'I am,' said Alise's voice, remarkably cooler than the other day and Ron sounded quite surprised when he said:

'Well, why aren't you with him?'

'Why aren't you with your charming little witch?'

'Well, I'm looking for her right now. We were trapped in this big beer pool and some freaky German sect member tried to trap us in there, but 'Mione Disapparated and I went to take a shower and I thought she'd come after me, but when I was done she was still gone, so I thought maybe she tripped and broke something.'

'Always the optimist,' Hermione muttered in the cupboard, and Draco's lips curled again; they were now located in her neck and she suppressed a giggle.

'Big beer pool?' said Alise, clearly forgetting all about her hate for Ron and Hermione and they heard a soft cracking as they apparently sat down on the bench that was standing directly opposite the cupboard.

'Shit,' Draco mumbled.

'Yeah!' said Ron enthusiastically, and he started telling her. By the time he was done, both he and Alise seemed to have forgotten all about their partners.

'Maybe we can Disapparate out,' Hermione said, trusting on their inaudibility, grabbing Draco's hand and they turned on the spot, but she hadn't focused right; letting out a yelp of pain as they landed just around the corner, she noticed she'd lost her left leg.

Draco let go of her hand just in time, and shrugging in a where-the-hell-can-I-go-sort of way, he dove into the men's room just before Hermione heard footsteps as if from a galloping horse and Ron came sprinting towards her.

'Mione! What happened! Look at you! We have to get you to a healer!'

Alise came right behind him and she gave Hermione's suit a weird look before she said: 'I can fix that, I was an intern at St. Mungo's.'

'Course you were…' Hermione muttered, but Alise had already pointed her wand at her, and looking like she'd rather bite off Hermione's other leg with her bare teeth, she fixed her up.

'Gee, thanks, that felt horrible…' Hermione said with a feeble voice, not daring to look Alise in the eye.

'You're welcome, lovely costume,' Alise sneered, 'have you seen my _fiancé_?'

'No, haven't seen him, isn't he supposed to be with you?' Hermione played stupid.

'I don't know,' said Alise, sounding rather moronic herself, and Hermione was helped up by Ron, who shook Alise's hand with a bright red head; Hermione sighed.

'Anyway, thanks very much, I think I'm going to take a shower… I stink of beer.'

'You do stink of beer, Granger,' a voice sneered from behind her and Draco came walking around the corner.

'Draco!' Alise screamed theatrically and she threw herself into his arms, while he gently patted her on the back.

'It's not like I died…'

'Yeah, we're off,' Ron said, disgusted of Malfoy getting close with a woman and Hermione shove her arm through his.

'Shall we?' he asked in an even more British voice than ever and she pulled a pompous face in a fair impersonation of Percy.

'I'd love to!' she answered and they walked away from what soon were to be the Malfoy's.

When Hermione threw one last look over her shoulder, Draco was staring at her from over Alise's shoulders and she smiled. They'd get together soon enough.

Trying not to feel guilty in the slightest (quite hard), Ron and herself agreed to go partying in a nearby town that counted, yes, at least one discotheque and one bar to host the drunks!

'But first,' Ron said and Hermione in her mind had a vision of what he might be thinking about, 'food!'

Slightly annoyed, she followed him to the dining room, where a couple of entwined lovers were feeding each other gross fruits with their mouths and Hermione felt a little awkward looking at them with her own boyfriend diving to the steak.

Ah, she could live with him.


	16. Ghostly encounter

**Chapter sixteen**

_Ghostly encounter_

'I want to visit Fred, this weekend,' Hermione said during dinner a couple of days later, and Ron stopped spooning soup into his mouth for a couple of seconds.

'Why?'

As he continued eating, she blew on her own soup for a moment and said:

'Because… I want to? Hello, you weren't the only one mourning when he died, I knew Fred for seven years, in case you forgot.'

There was a little awkward silence; the family still hadn't gotten used to the fact that Fred's physical presence was no longer there and although they still sort of had him, it stung.

'I'm sorry, I didn't –'

'Yes, you did,' George smiled, 'but that's okay. I'll let him know you'll be there, too, he's gonna love it!'

The corner of her mouth twitching, Hermione returned to Molly's steaming hot fish soup.

'This is good, Molly,' she said, causing Ron to look up in anger for a moment; he'd had a row with his mother just before dinner and had probably been planning to soften her mood by overwhelming her with compliments on her cooking.

'Thank you, Hermione!' Mrs Weasley said, 'I actually used a diff –'

She stopped in mid-sentence, because Ron jumped up and said:

'IT'S GREAT! It's even better than usual, I love this! Hmm!'

Harry, who had been talking Quidditch with Charlie, frowned and said:

'You're gonna have to re-read that book of yours again, I don't think you got it right…'

Hermione didn't know what he meant, but Molly ran head-first into another argument with Ron, and before the rest of the family knew it, they were throwing accusations at each other.

'Here we go again…' Mr Weasley sighed, and they all just turned back to their soup, trying to ignore Ron's bowl flying through the room.

'Say yay!'

'Er… yay?'

Hermione had woken with a start when she'd noticed George had been sitting at her feet and rubbed her eyes.

'We're leaving this mess for a weekend!' George reminded her; the Burrow had been full of shrieking and fighting, somehow the Weasley's had been really bad-tempered the last few days and Harry had decided to join them about yesterday; Hermione could hear muffled screams from a few floors below.

'Oh, yes, Fred!' she said, pulling her blanket up to her chin and looking at George.

'You want me to leave?' he asked.

'… Or we could both get fully naked and get it on!' she suggested sarcastically.

'You're fully naked?' he smirked, but Disapparated before she could throw something at him.

About a quarter of an hour later, Hermione walked downstairs to see Ginny chasing Percy, who was clutching her broomstick, yelling:

'I JUST WANT TO TRY IT! ONCE!'

Ginny roared lion-like and made a dive for him, causing Percy to smack on to the hard stone floor. Hermione watched them a little anxiously.

'YOU ALWAYS BREAK _EVERYTHING_, PERCE, GIVE IT _BACK!_'

Unwillingly, he handed over Ginny's brand new Firebolt, that Harry had bought for her, after attempting to poke her in the eye with it.

'Thanks,' she said in an arrogant tone, and Hermione was more than happy when she'd stuffed her breakfast in her mouth and George came frolicking at her, saying:

'Are you ready?'

'God, yes!'

She gave an annoyed Ron a little kiss on his cheek, before Disapparating to Hogsmeade with George.

'Pff… I have no idea what's wrong with them, but it's freaking me out!' she said as soon as they had Apparated in front of the Hog's Head, where Aberforth Dumbledore waved at them from behind a window, barely visible through all the dust.

'Oh, mum's just upset because Wonny wants to come and work with me; she thinks he's going to end up as rotten as Fred and I were,' George smirked, while they walked down the path to the Hogwarts grounds, 'and Ginny's just looking for an excuse to avoid Harry.'

Hermione frowned, trying to recall Harry and Ginny, who indeed hadn't spent much time together lately.

'Why's that?' she asked, also trying to recall the last time George had been thinking all rationally and sharing his family stuff with her.

'Oh, she thinks Harry wants to settle down any time now, and she's not ready to leave her family yet, and she wants to make a career first.'

George almost tripped over a large tree chunk blocking their way, and Hermione held out her hand, which he grabbed quickly.

'Thanks,' he said, panting slightly and she smiled.

'No problem. So how do you know all this?'

He let out an evil laugh. 'Well, Ginny wouldn't trust all her Harry secrets to _you, _because –'

'She always trusts everything to me!' Hermione contradicted, but George shook his head.

'No, just the positive things. Ever since she's hooked up with Harry, she refused to tell you negative happenings in their relationship. Can you blame her? Duh, you're his best friend; you'll just go and defend him. While I, the fun brother, am always there with a listening ear!'

Hermione giggled, though a little taken aback, when he pointed at his lonely ear and continued: 'And then there's Percy, trying to do cool brother-and-sister-stuff with all of us, in an attempt to get back in Dad's will.'

'He's not –?'

'Of course he is, only joking. Anyway, he _does _try to get a better bond with the lot of us, but he's still the pompous freak he was, though now with a slight sense of humour, and strangely enough, he's developed an appetite for mum's cooking – he never had that. Though that could be due to the fact that he wants mum to love him.'

'Well that's not too hard, she's all over him,' Hermione sighed; Mrs Weasley was continuously trying to fatten Percy up and get information from him about whether or not he was planning on proposing to Penelope Clearwater, his high school sweetheart.

'That's right. And Charlie is also trying to spend more time with the family; he's been feeling guilty ever since my dear brother died.'

He sounded awfully happy for a twin who was no longer a twin, but Hermione saw him looking forward to seeing his ghost brother again. She shivered and put her hands in her waistcoat pockets; it was a cold, cold December and it would take only a couple of hours for the snow to start falling, according to the Wizard Weather Forecast.

'And – er – what's Mr Weasley's problem, then? He's been quite grumpy, too.'

'How would you act when your entire family plus the wizarding world's hero are all bitching and screaming and acting childish and you're in the middle of it?'

'It doesn't seem to affect you…'

'Of course it doesn't, I get to terrorize Hogwarts every damn weekend!' he exclaimed happily and laughing, they entered the castle that had now popped up in front of them.

'Welcome, my mortal friends!'

Hermione shrieked when a hand was placed… through her shoulder, feeling like ice water sliding through her.

'Fred!' she said, feeling the urge to hug him, and he noticed, because he wrapped his shiny arms around her, and she quivered as he passed right through her again.

He smiled and she took a look at him; she'd always liked the sight of ghosts, not necessarily because of their good looks (most of them didn't have those, except for maybe the Ravenclaw ghost), but because of their shiny, almost watery appearance.

However, seeing Fred in this ghost-version was quite shocking; he looked almost human, but his face looked silky and silvery and his hair wasn't really red anymore, though you could guess the former colour of it.

'How are you?' she asked, a smile spreading all over her face; seeing the twins together (Fred was poking George, who made little jumps every time his brother touched him) was just heart-warming.

'Better than ever!' he said, doing a weird dance that looked even stranger with his new body.

'Are you… sure?' she asked and he frowned.

'Why not? Hogwarts is the place to be! I can humiliate, interrogate and follow students, I can watch them in their sleep, I can pull pranks, I can even come to the Burrow, if I want to!'

'Well… why don't you?' she asked as they walked through the entrance hall and she sat down on a little bench.

'Why should I? If you guys come over, it makes it more special every time you see me!'

'… You're just not wasting an opportunity to fool somebody, are you?'

'Okay, you got me… Always thought you were too clever for Wonny, anyway. Well, I intend to visit you real soon, it just takes a while before I get to Ottery St. Catchpole, since I cannot Apparate or ride a broomstick anymore. I have to really plan it; Peeves can barely spend minutes without me!'

'Where is he now, then?' she asked.

'Oh, right behind you,' he said casually, making a small hand gesture, and indeed, as she turned around in agony, a water balloon came soaring right at her and she heard the cackling of Peeves accompanied by Fred and George's chuckles as it splashed right into her face.

'Priceless,' Fred or George said from behind her and mockingly, she dried her face with her wand.

'Very funny. Hey, boys, I was thinking I could visit professor McGonagall, she likes to be up-to-date on Harry and the Death Eater stuff, so… I'd like to talk to you later, Fred,' she said; she'd come to Fred for the exact same reason as the other Weasleys chose George to be their trust person.

'Sure, Mione, we'll be right in the Great Hall, there's some Slytherins that need ass-kicking,' he said brightly, floating away with Peeves and George right behind him.

'So, what's the story?' Fred asked nicely; he'd horrified most of Slytherin house and was done for the day. George was downstairs in the kitchens, trying to teach Kreacher how to use a steak knife on Slytherins.

Hermione, who had just come back from the headmistress' office, where she had had a nice chat with professor McGonagall, was sitting in Gryffindor tower and Fred floated next to her. Nearly Headless Nick had recently accepted him as co-Gryffindor ghost and he knew the passwords (not that he needed them; he just liked to keep the Fat Lady awake and unhappy).

Sighing, she started off, beginning with how she'd intended to just help Draco with his little task and get things over with, but noticing quite soon afterwards that he was actually really attractive.

'We're talking the same Malfoy, here?' Fred asked and she nodded in tears, and he kept quiet while she continued her story, sobbing loudly when she was done, causing some first year Gryffindors to back away anxiously.

'Well, I get why you prefer a blonde, evil stud over our Won-Won, but… I don't know, Hermione,' he said, trying to bite his lip but it didn't work out.

'I don't, either,' she sniffled, reaching for her handkerchief in her robes and wiping away her tears impatiently. 'That's why I came to you.'

'Ah, the wise Weasley,' he sniggered, and he looked at her.

'Hey, it's not that bad. I just… I don't think you should go through with Malfoy. It might feel right now, but he's going to get married, you belong to Wonny.

I'm not just saying this because I'm his brother, or I was, whatever, but… you two are the real thing, you know.'

He made a theatrical noise and said: 'If you two aren't going to end up together, then who is?! You're my hope in this world.'

She pulled a non-appreciating look and he sighed.

'Okay, okay, anyway, what I mean is just, I think you and Malfoy are – and how disgusting it is to visualize this, luckily I'm not capable of feeling anymore – just… the physical thing, nothing more. I think you should go for the good guy.'

She smiled, with tears still running down her cheeks.

'Thanks, Fred.'

'Hey, you're welcome! Hmm… 'Round this time I should get hungry, come on, we're going to stalk the house-elves!'

A couple of hours later, Hermione and George went to sleep in a guestroom in Gryffindor Tower, Fred planning on hovering next to them all night, giving Hermione the creeps, especially because Peeves would stop by every few minutes or so to cackle maniacally and disappear with a loud, fart-like noise.

They didn't get much sleep that night.

At six am or so, Hermione, exhausted, with bloodshot eyes, asked George if he went through this every single weekend, but he could only smirk at her, obviously enjoying her lack of sleep.

'Oh, you haven't changed a bit,' she murmured, turning around in her bed and yawning loudly, before passing into an unstable sleep for about an hour.

'WAKEY-WAKEY, EGGS AND BACEY!' George and Fred yelled in perfect harmonious voices, causing Hermione to throw a pillow right through Fred.

'Damn it, you… dead man!' she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and getting up with a dull face.

'Oh, that hurt,' Fred said, punching himself through the stomach in order to visualize the effect of her words, grinning broadly.

After breakfast, a chase through the school where Hermione joined forces with McGonagall and Filch trying to curse Peeves, then lunch (the Weasleys had a combined love for food) and being pulled pranks on by the twins for an entire afternoon, Hermione and George finally set course for home.

'So…' George said as soon as they had left the castle where Fred was waving at them, screaming silly goodbyes, 'I heard you're getting it on with Malfoy!'


	17. Francesca's Women's Club

**Chapter seventeen**

_Francesca's Women's Club for Extraordinary Witches_

'Hey, Mione, isn't this your sort of thing?'

Ron was sitting lazily in an armchair in the living room, glancing at the half-naked witches in the _Young Witch Weekly _every three seconds, now looking at the advertisements underneath it.

'What-get-off-furry-little-dust-ball-is?' Hermione asked. She was helping Molly dust the Burrow, and was now fighting off furry little creatures that lived on top of a closet, protecting their territory by biting her in the hands.

'Need any help with that?' Ron asked kindly, and when she wanted to scream 'YES!' he continued: 'No? Okay, well, it says here: Francesca's Women's Club for Extraordinairy Witches, for witches with brains and beauty and the need to talk about it, there's a first get-together this evening.'

'I have no need to talk about it…'

'But you could make friends!'

'I have friends!'

He grinned. 'Okay sure, just saying, it could be fun?'

'Since when do you want me to have a social life?'

'Well you can't hang around the house all day!'

'That's what you do!'

He snorted in defeat and she looked at him in rage.

'Fine, I'll go to Francesca's damned club for extraordinary witches and talk about how I can curse my ordinary boyfriend onto the ceiling!'

'Awesome,' he snapped.

'YEAH, FAN-TAS-TIC!' she yelled, pulling _Young Witch Weekly_ out of his hand and ripping out the advertisement.

The mood had cleared when she got ready to go to the witch club that evening, wrapping a scarf around her neck.

'Be careful!' Ron said absent-mindedly, he was listening to a radio programme he liked.

'Whatever!' she replied and Disapparated, her mind focused on the address that had been underneath the advertisement.

Feeling slightly awkward about describing herself as extraordinary and possessing both brains and beauty _and _the arrogance to talk about it, she gazed up at the manor in front of her. It looked like… she saw white peacocks and frowned, not completely able to recall when she'd seen this house before.

Two other witches Disapparated next to her; identical twins with identical black hair and identical presumptuous smiles. Hermione sighed and followed them to the opened doors of the house, looking around in wonder and stopping with a jump when she saw the woman that was undoubtedly Francesca.

'Hello,' she said in an odd, manly voice; exactly the way you would describe her, actually.

Hermione felt the desire to laugh as she looked at the tall, broad-shouldered (for a woman), clumsy woman in front of her, wearing high-heels that didn't seem to fit, with grey eyes, gigantic curled eyelashes and hair like Narcissa Malfoy's.

And then it hit her.

This was the Malfoy manor! As she walked past Francesca, she recognized the halls of the house where she'd been tortured last year, and shivered, gripping her wand tightly.

Of course, there was no threat for her here, anymore, but she didn't know what was wrong. She didn't understand why the women's club was held here, perhaps because the Malfoy's didn't live here anymore.

… Not that Draco and she had discussed his parents much in between their illegal making out.

She was pushed into a room full of cackling and chattering witches and sat down next to a girl with long, brown hair that looked as out of place as she was, and she smiled at her, at which the young witch leaned towards her.

'Were you forced to go here, too?'

'Er, well, someone suggested it and I thought it might be fun…' Hermione said uncomfortably; she was just here to prove something to Ron.

What? She did not know.

'Thought wrong,' the witch said and she turned around as Francesca came stumbling into the room.

'Hello, ladies! Thanks for coming! Could I have a word with that young lady over there?' she said, pointing at Hermione with an index finger with an abnormally long nail, painted bright pink.

'Excuse me?' Hermione frowned, but she realized that there was no Francesca the moment the latter almost broke her ankle turning on her heels, and hurried out of the room.

'What the hell?' Hermione said as soon as she'd closed the door, laughing hysterically. 'You look ridiculous!'

Draco pouted with his newly swollen lips.

'It's the only way I could get to see you! You'd definitely come to something like this!'

'Well aren't you a Slytherin!' she said, slamming a hand to her forehead.

'There's a whole group of women waiting inside! Where are your parents? Where is… This is stupid, and you don't look attractive in the least, looking like that!'

'Oh, damn, I forgot them, I'll get them out, saying the house is on fire or something. My parents are on holiday, no need to worry about them!'

'… And you don't think anyone will point out to them that someone held a witch club in their living room?'

'Good point. I'll just say they got the address wrong and I'll write an angry letter to Young Witch Weekly!'

'Okay, er, well...'

She didn't know what to say, and neither did he, so he almost broke _both _of his ankle running back to the room where the witches were gathered.

Hermione conjured a thick smoke cloud as he screamed:

'FIRE, FIRE, THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE, GET OUT, GET _OUT!_'

Hermione was almost overrun as the witches stormed out of the room, and she backed away slowly while their panicked voices shrieked through the cold night, as they left the house in agony.

'Good one,' Hermione said as soon as Draco got back, and the smoke cloud vanished.

He made a weird, exulting voice.

'See, I've got you all for myself! My plan did work!'

She made no effort to point out all the flaws in his plan, she'd already done that and there was no time to waste. With the conversation with Fred in the back of her mind (really in the back of her mind, she just pushed it aside), she looked at the transvestite in front of her.

'Why don't we get you fixed up?'

Draco was sitting on top of a wooden table in the large kitchen of the Malfoys, wriggling his hand at Hermione as she turned his fingernails back to normal.

'I didn't think your Transfiguration was as advanced as it is, good job!' she complimented him, while removing his enormous fake eyelashes.

'Yeah, yay, I rock,' he said impatiently.

'Look, you could've just invited me to come over, don't go bitching on me for looking like a mutated Umbridge!'

'But I –'

He jumped with such force that he threw Hermione backwards, who had to grip a passing house-elf to keep standing.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!' she told the terrified elf, then turning to Draco, who stood frozen now, staring at something on the ground.

Hermione followed his stare and saw only a little caterpillar slipping over the kitchen floor.

'What are you looking at?' she asked, and he swallowed.

'C-caterpillar,' he mumbled, and she bit her lip in confusion.

'… So?'

'I… _Stun it_!'

'No way, it's cute! What, is it a Death Eater in disguise?' she asked, alarmed.

'No idea… you… what they turn into…'

'Oh, butterflies? Are you afraid of those?'

He shook his head and seemed to get out of his phobic trance.

'What is it?' she asked, taking his hand.

'Crabbe told me a story… When we were at Hogwarts. He said… he said… Caterpillars come to you at night… when you're asleep…'

'No they don't,' Hermione interrupted, but he didn't seem to hear her.

'_And eat your brain!_'

'Again, they don't.'

She started chuckling in disbelief.

'You actually bought that story?'

He looked at her in fury, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

'You should've been there!' he roared in a defensive tone, 'it was real convincing!'

'Well, Crabbe,' she started, muttering '_don't' _before saying, 'bless his soul, was an utter retard and not capable of even remembering the password of the Slytherin common room, come ON! Caterpillars are as innocent as… as… that lamp over there!' she ended, waving vaguely at a large standing lamp spreading a romantic light through the kitchen.

'That lamp's jinxed, it tried to bite my leg off once,' Draco said numbly, and

Hermione giggled and took his other hand, too.

'But once we're here and we now know caterpillars will not harm you, why don't we make something out of this evening?'

He smiled.

'Sounds good,' he said, before kissing her on the lips, though he still looked a little suspicious at the sight of the caterpillar on the floor, which had now almost reached the back door:

Hermione was sure he was giving the house-elf behind them silent orders to both keep their encounter secret and get the little animal out of the house.

'You know,' Hermione said, while they both took off their heels (other garments had already left their bodies) and Draco sighed in relief of being freed of those monsters, 'I was a little shocked when we ran into you at our mini-break.'

'Oh, yeah,' he shrugged, 'it sort of sucks, but… does that mean we can't see each other anymore? I mean, it seems to be working out just fine.'

'Yes, but aren't we cheating bastards?'

It took him about ten minutes to answer that question, for Hermione had pulled him into another stunning kiss (she did admit she had the talent of being a fair kisser, as was he) and they didn't break apart until they were both out of breath.

'We are,' he said in a serious tone, but he didn't really seem to care.

'I mean. I think we –'

'You should think less, you're not a Ravenclaw, are you?'

'No, but the Sorting Hat seriously considered it, and –'

'Fuck the Sorting Hat!'

She had the tendency to say _'No, fuck you'_ but that would be as different from the normal Hermione as could be, so she just acted out her thoughts, that would deliver the message just as well.

Draco made a sudden movement as something made a noise, not far from the kitchen.

'Shit,' he moaned and Hermione was shaking in shock as they heard someone yell:

'Hello? Draco, are you home?'

Alise's heels ticked on the marble floor in the hall as she muttered: 'Is that a pink coat?'

Draco didn't waste time; his glance shot backwards and forwards through the kitchen and he grabbed all of Hermione's clothes, stuffed them into a kitchen cabinet and pushed Hermione into it, too. She swore softly as she was a naked bunch of limbs, in a kitchen cabinet that wasn't designed for humans, in a strange house.

She heard Draco mutter an incantation, probably to put his clothes back on, the lazy bastard. He was right in time, for Alise's footsteps came nearer and she walked into the kitchen.

'There you are!' her harmonious voice said and Hermione felt like puking when she heard lips touch. She claimed those lips!

She listened to the dull conversation between a nervous Draco and an energetic Alise, who was ranting about the shops she'd been to, where they didn't even sell normal dress robes, and about how bad the Muggle fashion world actually was.

Hermione felt bored and it wasn't until she started getting cold when she took her wand and put her clothes back on, turning and twisting into uncomfortable positions as she did so.

Alise was pouring drinks into glasses and her footsteps and Draco's faded as they left the kitchen. Hermione climbed out of the cabinet just in time, and got ready to Disapparate as she heard Draco's fiancé say:

'Oh, hey, I forgot the pie!'

Hermione turned on the spot, but tripped and quickly got up and Disapparated anyway, though she was quite certain Alise had seen some movement as she entered the kitchen where Hermione had stood a second earlier.

'Hermione! We were so worried!'

As soon as she'd stepped into the living room, Ron, Harry and Ginny sat straight up and started looking worried.

'No you weren't.'

'Okay, we weren't, but you're late, though,' Ginny said, falling back into Harry's arms lazily, and Ron rolled his eyes as Harry kissed her eyelids.

'Hello, family in the house…'

'Well you do that stuff with Hermione,' Harry pointed out.

'Not in public!'

'No, but sometimes we watch you fr –'

'Ew, Harry, stop that, you dirty geezer!' Hermione said grossed out and she sat down next to Ron, receiving a furtive look from Harry.

'So how was the women's club?' Ron asked, pulling Hermione closer towards him, and she felt highly uncomfortable as she said:

'Great! Real fun, we er – talked about everything!'

'Everything?' Ginny asked interested.

'No, Gin, it's not a porn convention or something, just… some of them were quite arrogant, though,' she said, her inspiration coming from the twins with the self-satisfied faces.

'Oh, well, you missed out on a lot over here,' Gin said, yawning to indicate how much exactly Hermione had been missing.

Hermione smiled.

'So what are you guys up to this weekend?' she asked, and Harry answered:

'Gin and I are going to visit Teddy at Dromeda's house.'

He and Tonks's mother had grown to be close friends the months after the loss of Lupin and Tonks, and they talked about their losses, but about Teddy, too, and they found they actually had something in common, so Harry spent quite some weekends over at Andromeda Tonks's house.

'Cool,' Hermione answered half-heartedly. George walked by and he ran his hand through his hair in a Draco-like way; he said he accepted her lack of brains, but couldn't stand teasing her with it every time. He didn't tell anyone, though; it was just between him, Fred and Hermione. Oh, the joy.

'Hi, George,' Hermione said coolly and he smiled an absurdly broad smile.

'Wonny, you should go to bed; you gotta help me in the shop tomorrow.'

Ron moaned.

'I'm not going, George, I can stay up!'

'You sound like a three-year-old.'

Hermione stood up. 'I am going to bed, actually. I'm really tired.'

'Ah,' Harry said pitiful, 'that women's club must've worn you out. Unless it's…'

'No, Harry,' Hermione snapped, suppressing a yawn, 'it's just… that Francesca is one hell of a woman.'

In guilt, she walked towards the door, but stopped dead when Ginny asked:

'What's she like?'

Hermione shrugged.

'Ah, you know the type. Blonde, sexy, strong…'

Ron and Harry were picturing things (judging by their happy sighs), and Hermione walked away smiling as Harry yelled:

'OW! Was that necessary?' when Ginny punched him.

'Heh, heh, yes, sir,' her evil voice sounded and Hermione shut the door.


	18. Write it in a letter!

**Chapter eighteen**

_Write it in a letter!_

It was quite peaceful for a day in the Burrow, and the icy day was full of clichés; the sky was blue and clear, birds were chirping and Hermione was sitting outside in the large Weasley garden, enjoying a hot cup of tea, clutching in her hand what looked like a folded paper.

And indeed was she holding a piece of parchment that she'd read about twenty times that day. She had actually just been heading for her parents' house (she'd brought them back from Australia a couple of days after the funerals of Fred, Lupin and Tonks, and they were prouder than ever), but was stopped by an owl crashing right into her face as she stepped out of the back door.

The Burrow was, for the first time in what seemed like years, completely deserted except for her, Pig and old Errol (and some gnomes). Ron and George were in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes selling prank ideas to little kids, Harry and Ginny were at Andromeda Tonks's house, Mrs Weasley was having a whatever-in-law-fieldtrip with Fleur that would probably end up in a fight, and the other Weasley men were at the Ministry.

As the owl had been attacking Hermione, she saw who the letter was addressed to (and who it was from), and she'd delayed her trip for a little while.

Now she unfolded it again and read it out loud (kicking a rather foolhardy gnome away as she did):

_Dear bunny (oh god that sounds só Hufflepuff. I just read in some magazine that women like nicknames. You don't like nicknames, do you? If so, that's absolutely disgusting, who would want to be named BUNNY? That's like calling someone Weasley.),_

_I'm not good at writing letters, but I thought it would be the only safe way to reach you (unless a Weasley reads this, and therefore, I have carefully hidden my identity in this little note! But I told my owl specifically to look for you, though I described you without any clothes on, but I think he'll find it, it's a smart bird), so…_

_I'm getting married in three weeks, and my family thought it would be nice to prove how blood traitor-loving they are now by inviting families like the Weasleys, so I suppose you'll be there, as well (geez, you're almost Weasley's third testicle, his parasite… you know.)._

_By the way, my mother is now convinced that someone snuck into our house to hold a secret women's club there (that I thank to some serious magic I did! That's right, I rock! If you weren't alive, I would've EASILY been student of the year. I guess.), and she told my dad so, too, isn't that awesome? They did find some weird women's stockings and underwear (hey, I had to get into my role)._

_Did you like me as Francesca? I found being a woman most freeing! You must all feel very sexy and free and awesome all the time. Maybe I should – no, there's no way I could become a woman. Do you have any suggestions? I mean, you have to be attracted to your own gender as well, two girls making out is SO HOT!_

_Anyway, if you want to see me sometime before the wedding or something (hey, I CAN hold a bachelor party, that's gonna be so awesome! I can invite all my friends over! You know, Blaise and… such. OH, AND GOYLE! He's so lost, by the way, drinking and gambling, seriously sad. Of course I have about a dozen, what – a million friends who are so cool that you freeze in their company! Or they're so hot you melt! Hahaha!) , just… go to the weird house I lived in when I was alone, and leave a note on the table, and I'll READ it and we'll meet!_

_Lovely goodbye with sugar on top,_

_Daco Dalfoy (see, I rule, try to figure that out, Weasley!)_

She was wondering if he had been serious writing this letter; this was completely retarded, but undoubtedly written by Draco (on a high?).

She smiled and made an effort to become friends with a gnome by smiling at its ugly potato-head, but the gnome made a dive for her nose and she Stunned it before it got the chance to gnaw away her beautiful reeking organ.

'Try me, hideous creature,' she hissed, but felt a little anxious when she heard a strange noise in the bushes, and before she knew it, gnomes were running towards her from all over the garden.

Fortunately, they were _très petite, _so therefore she got the chance to kick away most of them and Stun the rest, holding two up in the air as hostages to calm down the rest of the garden gnomes that were now clambering out of their holes and trees.

'I'll give you back your buddies, if you stop attacking me! Otherwise, I shall slay every single one of you!' she said, feeling most revolted by herself as this was nearly Voldemort speaking.

The gnomes backed away slightly disappointed, though one stout little fella ran towards her in a brave attempt to bite her knee off, but she threw his friends all the way through the garden, where they smacked against a tree, and used the Imperius Curse on the gnome, making himself walk back to his hole and get to sleep.

Feeling slightly rule-abandoning and naughty, she took up her empty tea glass and went to sit in the kitchen, tears now streaming from her eyes.

Suddenly, it struck her how she'd misbehaved towards Ron; she was the two-faced snake Ron always accused Draco to be. Like she'd thought of Draco before…

There wasn't much time to argue with herself about what she should do with her life, however. Two owls came soaring at the kitchen window of the Burrow and Hermione was just in time to open it before they crashed into it.

She took the folded pieces of parchment from them and read the first one swiftly.

_PS: Do you like bananas?_

Frowning and wondering what the hell Draco meant with this, she opened the second one, reading this one with a dry throat;

It was the invitation to Draco and Alise's wedding. The words were blurred for her and she threw it on to the table. No way she was going to that stupid wedding.

Someone popped into the kitchen and she quickly shove Draco's letters in the pocket of her coat.

'Hey! Ron! What's up?'

'Hey, cookie,' a hasty-looking Ron said, and after catching her glance, adding;

'I – I heard girls like nicknames.'

She raised an eyebrow.

'Never call me cookie again. God, what is it with men calling me nicknames these days?'

The words had come out of her impulsive mouth before she knew it.

'Who else calls you nicknames?' Ron asked, his ears a nasty shade of red.

'Well,' Hermione started off, racking her brains in an effort to come up with something. She had easily lied the story of her life against Snatchers and Bellatrix Lestrange holding a knife to her throat, but nothing came to her mind now, besides Draco and strangely, Nearly Headless Nick.

'Harry,' she said eventually.

'Harry?' Ron repeated in a most violent tone that screamed I-am-so-gonna-chop-off-my-best-friend's-head, and he asked: 'What did he call you?'

Hermione's eyes scanned the kitchen, and nervous at Ron's interrogating look, she blurted out: 'Steak knife.'

'_Steak knife?'_

She nodded unconvincingly.

'Er – Why don't you go lie down? I have to go; I just came to pick something up.'

He pointed at a triangular parcel on the kitchen table, wrapped in dull brown paper, and gave her a strange wave and a concerned look before Disapparating.

'Geez. That was close. God, Hermione, you're such an IDIOT sometimes,' she muttered to herself, before scurrying around the room, looking for ink, parchment and a decent quill (Ron had a habit of chewing on them, George liked to snap them in half and Percy always took quills if he needed them for some report or something).

'Ah,' she said loudly, trying to extinguish the heavily burning fire of thoughts whizzing through her head, 'there we go!'

She sat down with a quill that had only a few tooth marks on it, and dipped it in the ink.

'_Dear Daco Dalfoy,' _she wrote and brought the quill to her mouth to suck on it while thinking what she should write, until she visualized a chewing Ron who had just had dinner.

'Gross… Er, okay.'

'_Wow, I had been afraid that if you would write a letter, someone would know that it would be you, but fortunately, your name is as well disguised as you were as Francesca!_

_Yes, I'm kidding, you moron. What were you thinking? Luckily I found it (and the bird found me with clothes on, so there's at least some intelligence in that house of yours) and read it before Ron came back! Well, I have read your letter thoroughly and here's my suggestion on how you could become a woman (if you will, however, I will never speak to you again, or to your female form, I'm positive that I am not bisexual, how hot two girls making out may be – and wow, that's such a cliché, you're such a… guy!);_

_Muggles have found a way to do this! It takes a lot of hormones to grow your boobs (and they could cut you open and place implants in your chest, too), and then there's some painful surgeries where you become aware of what moronic thing you are actually doing; that is the part where they give you a vagina._

_You will still have a weird, manly voice, though, but you'll never be able to carry a child or have your period (not that you'd mind, I think), and you would have to sleep with guys, because you do not date hideous people and the lesbians that would dig you would probably be the manly sports teacher type, think Madam Hooch. Maybe you'd get to sleep with Madam Hooch!_

_There. _

_Then, I'll place this note (as you will find, for you won't be able to read it before you find it on your table – as I'm not so stupid as to send it by owl post, couldn't you have come up with something inventive?) in your wacky old house, and… we'll get together!_

_I thought perhaps three days before the wedding would be a good idea? I'll be in the Leaky Cauldron at three pm, and you'd better be there, because I'll have to make up an excuse to get there._

_Much love,_

_Hell-hione Hanger_

_(figure that out, impostors!)_

_(yes, that was meant to make fun of you)_

_(because you obviously suck)_

Chuckling, she folded up the letter, sealed it thrice and had the ruddy old bird take it away. God, she was hilarious.


	19. Winter

**Chapter nineteen**

_Winter_

'Can you BELIEVE the Malfoys invited us to their WEDDING?' Molly Weasley shouted across the chock-a-chock full kitchen, where people were staring at her dully.

'Yeah, we can, you all had us read the letter. Twelve times,' George said indifferently.

'Yes, yes, but the point is, I think they're trying to become _friends _with us! Of course, they have now realized that we are actually very nice, and I think we should give them a chance, too. We're going!'

There was a long stream of annoyed mutters that mostly involved plots to have Draco's costume stick to his body forever, plots that would curse the bride, 'but,' as Ron said, 'she's hot, she could still choose the right track. It's Malfoy we gotta curse!', and plots that would finish the entire Malfoy family forever.

Hermione sighed and looked at her watch. A quarter to three.

'Well, if we have to go to this wedding, I'd better get myself some clothes!' she said cheerily. 'Bye!'

Before anyone could say a thing, she grabbed her coat and spun faster on the spot than ever, causing her to feel even more nauseous than usual when she finally landed in front of the wizard pub.

And to add a little more physical pain to her ill feelings, someone landed right on top of her. Hermione muttered a spell and pointed her wand from under her cloak, and the stranger shot upwards. She clambered up and looked at the one she'd just cursed.

'What the hell, Granger!' a pale, pointed face (or rather, its mouth) shouted at her.

'Draco! I'm so sorry! If I'd known _you _nearly gave me a skull fracture, I'd been nicer!'

This was actually true.

'Yeah whatever, just… get me back down,' Draco said, who was still dangling in mid-air, looking helpless.

'Sorry,' she giggled and waved her wand lazily, shooting angry looks at Muggles down the street. She didn't know when she'd become reckless and breaking the International Statute of Secrecy frequently, but frankly, she couldn't care less at the moment. She hugged her pale stranger and he looked at her with a mixed expression in his eyes.

'So… Getting married,' she said, as they both had made no effort of going inside, or speaking, or quit embracing like lovers who'd just been apart for two years.

'Yes…' Draco said, stretching his s as long as possible, and when he got out of breath, he quickly inhaled and gave her another long: 'Yesss.'

'Shut it, Voldemort!' Hermione said as a response to his freaky snake-ish sounds, and she kissed him on the lips. A passing couple gave them an understanding look and Draco frowned.

'You know, people can see us.'

'You have a point there. And you're engaged.'

'Yeah, go ahead and rub it in.'

'And you're gonna have lots and lots of babies with her.'

She was only teasing, but suddenly it struck her that she would never want to have lots and lots of babies with anyone other than Ron. He looked as aghast as she thought she did, and without another word, they hurried into the Leaky Cauldron.

Where, of course, they were awaited not only by Toothless Tom, but also an overexcited Rita Skeeter.

'Oh, Merlin,' Hermione said in a muffled tone, for she realized this long before Draco's eyes had even acclimatised to the new dark scenery.

'My my… The Muggle-born hero reunites with old school enemy…' Rita's voice cackled. Hermione only smirked and made a gesture as if picking up something small and disgusting.

'Beetle,' she said softly, and Rita's mouth gave a funny twitch.

'Fine,' she snapped and got back to interrogating a thoroughly scared looking wizard that was sitting next to her.

As Hermione and Draco swiftly turned away from the Devil with Fake Teeth, Hermione gave her companion a deadly stare.

'Great idea, meeting in a public place.'

'Er – this sort of was… your idea,' Draco responded with a small smile.

'Fine, you're right.'

Hermione took his arm and turned on the spot.

'Where are we –' she heard Draco say, but he probably didn't feel too well as his longs collapsed and he got sucked into the space/time continuum, so he didn't speak until he'd caught his breath.

'Where ARE we?' he asked, looking around the dusty room. It was decorated almost Spartan; just a bed, a closet and a chair standing in front of a broken mirror.

'The Leaky Cauldron, the Haunted Room,' Hermione answered.

'It has a Haunted Room?' Draco said, who'd just dropped himself onto the chair, shifting uncomfortably.

'Yep, that's why they never clean it.'

'Well, it's got a bed, so I think that'll do…'

She gave him a horny smirk and pulled Draco's tie in order to have him bend forward for an innocent little kiss.

'That'll do…'

_3 days later_

Golden sparks shot over the heads of Draco and Alise Malfoy as they leaned in for a passionate kiss followed by a warm embrace.

Molly Weasley squeezed Hermione's arm as the Malfoys stood up to take pictures with their son and their daughter in law.

'Isn't it beautiful?' she asked.

'Yeah, picture perfect,' Hermione said mockingly, straightening her purple dress. During the ceremony, Draco's eyes had scanned the crowd a couple of times, but his grey eyes hadn't locked with hers. Luckily, for she'd probably done something really stupid if they had.

'Oh, love, your time will come!' Molly said, clearly misunderstanding Hermione's bad temper that day. 'Just because Draco Malfoy got wedded earlier…'

'That's… not the point, Molly. I just… don't feel that well. I think I should take some fresh air. Or…'

_Or slit my throat, or have someone jump off a bridge. Preferrably Draco or Alise._

She hadn't finished her sentence, but was still coming up with alternatives that included the suicide of at least sixteen wedding guests, but with her hands in her pocket and her nose held high she tried to clear up her thoughts a little.

Of course, grey storm clouds came running through her mind once she was away from the wedding location (a beautiful little Muggle church where the Malfoy could express their newfound fake love for Muggle architecture and Muggles in general), brought to her by Draco. He caught up with her, even though she was trying to run away from him.

He was wearing dark blue dress robes to match the circles under his eyes.

'You know I can't stop thinking about you, right?'

She didn't look him in the eye, she stared at a point that might have been his elbow, perhaps his shoulder, and she wouldn't even have cared if it had been his spleen, as long as she didn't have to see his face.

'Congratulations. A married man. Who would've thought.'

'I certainly wouldn't…'

He hesitated for a moment. 'I actually hoped you'd jump up in the middle of the ceremony, scream that you love me and we'd Disapparate to some long lost island, where we'd spend our days making out in the sun and burning our tender British skins, and –'

Hermione swallowed and wiped away the tears that welled in her eyes.

'Yes, but I didn't. And I realize now that we can't go on with this.'

'Why not?'

He sounded genuinely surprised and she lifted her head up.

'Be reasonable, Draco! I'll probably have my marriage proposal in a couple of weeks, because Ron is a competitive Blast-Ended Skrewt and he's probably sulking right now about the fact that you have a lovely wife and he's just got a girlfriend that's been absent-minded for weeks and spent days alone in Spain with his worst enemy.

You're married! You should be dancing with your WIFE right now! WE CAN'T SNEAK AROUND FOREVER, YOU KNOW! People notice! People care about us.

I care about you, and as melodramatic as it sounds, as all of this _is, _really, I've got to let you go, and you should accept that you haven't got a screw-over slash genius at hand whenever you want her to end up in bed with you.'

Like a whip the wind had been on her bare skin three minutes ago, she was now only filled with the burning pain of some inexplicable feeling of loss.

'So… you really think we can't go on with this.'

'I do, Draco. Have a nice wedding. Satisfy your family. Satisfy _her_.'

He reached out for her hand but she slid it back into her pocket.

'Goodbye.'

She felt as frozen as the ground beneath her feet, and the world in front of her was a blurry mirror image of Draco's face, or perhaps it was him, perhaps it was Ron, she didn't know. Her throat felt raw as she walked away from him, and she looked around one last time to check on the only indecent and most wonderful thing she'd ever done in her life. He was walking away from her, but he gave her one last look, and, strangely enough, they both smiled a icy smile.

It was winter in their hearts.


	20. Some eighteen years later

**Author's note:**

Well, this is it, guys! I've spent way too long on this fic, because I wrote like the first sixteen chapters in about three weeks, and then I did nothing at all, and now I finished it. It might be written a little hastily, I'm sorry. This has been my first fic here at and I do hope you have enjoyed the magic that can be Dramione! I sure found out about it myself, and writing this epilogue was so much fun, for there was something missing in J.K. Rowling's ending of Deathly Hallows.

Thanks for reading, everybody, lots of love!

xoxo Fleur

**Disclaimer:**

Unfortunately, I do not own any of the characters I'm playing with here, they are the rightful property of J.K. Rowling (:

And, Bloomsbury, and stuff.

**Epilogue**

_Some eighteen years later_

'Come ON, hurry up, don't you want to see Albus before you get on the train?' Ron Weasley asked his daughter Rose on the first of September, while the latter was looking at the barrier between platforms nine and ten awkwardly.

'It's just a brick wall!'

'Dad, that's my point – _it's a brick wall! _It's scary!'

Ron sighed and walked through the barrier and appeared again a couple of seconds later.

'See? It's not going to close and have you bounce back onto the platform, like Harry and I had.'

Hermione sighed and gave her daughter a little squeeze. 'It's nothing, Rose. Prove to us that you're a big girl now. Hogwarts has bigger challenges than a fake wall, you know!'

Rose smiled, closed her eyes and ran straight through the barrier, shortly followed by her brother. Ron smirked at Hermione and the both of them walked onto platform 9 ¾ where the Hogwarts Express stood ready to bring fresh magical blood to the ancient school.

They were just convincing Hugo that the Forbidden Forest did not contain worms that snuck into your dormitory at night to eat your brains, when Harry and his family came to join them.

Hermione smiled at them and waved to Percy, who was giving new students a hard time and shouting something vague about broomsticks.

'Hi,' Albus, Harry's youngest son, said. He looked thoroughly nervous and Hermione felt slightly sorry for him. His brother had probably been emphasizing the chance that he might be in Slytherin and disgrace the family.

'Parked all right, then?' Ron asked Harry, and he started rattling about his Muggle driving test which he took only recently, sounding proud as ever, telling Harry that Hermione had thought he would've had to Confund the driver.

'No, I didn't,' Hermione lied, 'I had complete faith in you.'

She let her eyes wander around the station. He should be here somewhere.

Then Ron raised the pressure on poor Albus and Rose by starting to make jokes about disinheriting Hugo, and Hermione sighed.

'He doesn't mean it,' she assured the frightened children, as Ginny did the same thing.

The lines around Ron's mouth that had deepened over years seemed to sharpen and Hermione followed his gaze as he nodded to a point in the thinning mist.

'Look who it is,' he said, and Hermione's stomach leaped for a moment. After all this time.

Draco, Alise (who was still looking gorgeous after eighteen damn years) and their son were standing a couple of yards away from them and Hermione smiled. Draco was looking as haughty as his clothes, his every motion, as he had ever done.

She heaved a small sigh as she looked at his pointed face. He was eyeing her for a second, then nodded at the group and turned away as Hermione did the same. She was pretty sure she'd seen his blush.

'So that's little Scorpius,' Ron said softly, and he sounded half mad that Draco didn't have a moron son or something. 'Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains.'

Hermione was shocked. There went playtime opportunities!

'Ron, for _heaven's _sake,' she said angrily, though a little amused that he was still this competitive towards their former school enemy. 'Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!'

After Ron had made his apologies, Hermione lost her attention and barely caught any of the words that were being said about Neville and Teddy.

'Mom!' Rose said and Hermione shook her head in order to get her thoughts back to the station. In fact, they had been at the station, just not at the exact same spot where she was standing. 'We're leaving.'

'Oh, honey,' Hermione said, feeling a little squeeze in her stomach and a sort of grief that she always had when she had to part with one of her children, 'you'll be great! Of course, the teachers have high expectations of you. I was one of the best pupils Hogwarts ever taught.'

No, she still couldn't help it.

'But, no further pressure there!'

She gave her daughter a kiss and let Ron say goodbye to her.

They all smiled and waved as the Hogwarts Express took off, taking their children to the not so unknown.

'I'll go warm the car,' Hermione whispered barely audible, as she saw someone moving in the steam fog. 'Bye, Harry, Ginny!'

'Goodbye,' her best friends said and she gave them a quick hug before taking off even faster; she heard the first of the list of complaints that Ron was going to give Ginny. 'You should really visit Mom more often, she's worried that you might have cut your hair and don't dare to come out of your house!'

Hermione giggled and walked to the barrier, but stopped right in the middle of it, where a single person had been waiting for her.

'Hey,' Draco breathed, his grey eyes piercing hers and she smiled.

'Hey.'

Someone rushed through the barrier and Hermione was nearly knocked off her feet.

Draco caught her by the elbow and pulled her back towards him.

'So…' he said and he couldn't help run a finger through her hair.

'So.'

'See you next Tuesday?'

They laughed.

'Hell yeah.'

_The end!_

_Or is it…_


End file.
